#examine text is normally long tap only but now it's quick tap due to an issue with menu reordering

[magicalgirlmindcrank]

302 kc since my last 1/100 shard. 843 kc for two shards. Two. 1> percentile.

[miracleonice87]

I’ll Take Care of You

a Tyler Seguin one shot

a/n: I’m sorryyyy. obviously this is super sad but I kept thinking of Tyler taking care of his wife in this way when they’re going through a rough time and I couldn’t get this scenario out of my head. and who knows — there just might be a part 2 in the future with a much happier ending...

summary: Tyler and his wife are met with troubling news after learning only a couple of weeks ago that they’re expecting their first child.

warnings: loss of pregnancy/miscarriage.

_____

Wordlessly, we walked out of the automatic doors of the medical practice. The sun was shining, birds were singing all around us, and the Texas sky was unbelievably blue.

Normally, she would comment on that with a cheerful grin. “Beautiful day,” or maybe, “Look at the clouds, Ty.”

Not today.

Today, she pushed her thick black sunglasses onto her nose and stared down at her sneakers.

I couldn’t blame her. I reached for her shaking hand, which she allowed me to hold in mine after an awkward beat. We walked together to my car, lost in our own all-consuming thoughts.

Today was supposed to be joyful. Today was supposed to be the day we found out how far along Peyton was, when the baby was due. Instead, we’d been whisked into the doctor’s office by the ultrasound tech with apologetic eyes who closed the door behind her. Never a great sign.

The same ultrasound tech whose eyes had darkened when she began the sonogram, Peyton’s hold on my hand tightening as we both watched on in disbelief.

Peyton’s doctor had entered his private office after us, holding her charts in his hands. He sat down in front of us, resting his elbows on his desk, launching into a scientific explanation of what was happening right now inside my wife’s body.

We only really needed to hear four words of his dozens to understand the gravity of our situation.

No heartbeat... not viable.

Peyton visibly flinched as if someone had taken a swing at her. My breath hitched and rage coursed through my veins. I tried to calm myself by staring at her, which only made it worse. I was certain I could’ve left bruises by how tightly I was gripping her thigh. I watched helplessly as the most wonderful human being I had ever met wiped tears from her face with trembling fingers, listening carefully to what her doctor had to say. She began to nod, answering questions I barely heard due to the ringing in my ears.

It could’ve been seconds or hours later, but eventually, Peyton looked at me.

“You ready?” she asked, emotionless, gathering her purse from the floor by her chair. I nodded numbly, shaking the doctor’s hand without a word before pulling the door open for Peyton, who walked into the hallway briskly, wanting desperately to escape this nightmare.

But the nightmare only got more real once it was just the two of us, all alone in my car.

I drove us back to our home in silence, black ballcap pulled low over my eyes, hopefully covering how red and swollen they’d become from holding back tears. I clutched Peyton’s hand like a vice grip. She stared out the window, sniffling periodically. She didn’t return the glances I stole.

About a mile from our street, my hands-free system dinged with a group text message, which flashed onto the display.

“To: You, Wifey ❤️

From: Jamie

What’s the news on Jamie Jr., buds?”

Alarms sounded in my head as I flung my hand forward, pressing the “Hide” button as quickly as I could. It wasn’t quick enough.

Peyton’s head had finally turned forward, and I could tell by her soft whine that she had read the message, from one of a very small number of people we had told about her pregnancy.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” I choked out, tears finally slipping down my cheeks as I brought her hand to my lips. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. We both knew I wasn’t just talking about the text message.

Eventually, we pulled to a stop in our garage. I hustled around to her side to help her out of the vehicle. She was already stepping onto the runner boards when she began crying harder. I tugged her to my chest protectively, squeezing her in my arms as tightly as I could.

Neither of us said anything as the sobs racked her body, my silent tears now flooding my face, dropping onto her head which she’d buried into my hoodie. She gripped the fabric covering my back for dear life, nearly screaming now as she finally let her emotions overcome her.

With my arms still wrapped around her, I managed to move her into the house, where I collapsed onto the mudroom floor and pulled her into my lap. The dogs, hearing their beloved mom’s echoing cries, barked louder than they ever did when it was only the two of us entering the house. When they spotted us on the floor, they began to whine, covering us in kisses for only a second before lying down nearby. Even the animals seemed to sense that we needed our space. They kept a close eye on us as I rocked Peyton in my arms slowly, her knees pulled in to her chest, resting her full weight against me. I dropped my face to her hair as we both mourned for the little life that we had created together that was now not to be. That never even was.

As our hot tears and breathless sobs finally slowed, a million thoughts rushed through my brain, things I might say to make her — to make us both — feel better.

We can try again.

It wasn’t supposed to happen right now.

Everything is going to be fine.

They all sounded like empty lies.

Instead, I decided to say the one thing that had been on my heart since the moment we received the news. The one thing I needed her to know.

“Peyton... this is not your fault,” I whispered, cradling her head, pressing kisses to her temple over and over and over again. “This is not your fault. This is not your fault.”

My repetition prompted her tears to start once more, though not as heavily this time, as she nuzzled her head against my shoulder. She had yet to say anything.

“Peyton? I need you to look at me, babe,” I urged as I grasped her jaw, angling her eyes to meet mine at last.

“This. Is not. Your fault,” I spoke firmly when she finally looked up at me. I watched sadness continue to pool in her eyes. She didn’t move.

“Peyton, honey,” I pushed. “I need you to tell me you know that, okay? That you know this is not your fault.” I kept my hold on her jaw, using my thumb to stroke it slowly.

Finally, Peyton nodded. And it broke me all over again.

I flung both my arms around her entire body, which seemed smaller than ever curled up in my lap here on our cold tile floor, and I held her for another several minutes before speaking again.

“Want some water?” I asked quietly, kissing the skin near her ear. She nodded again. I tapped her hip lightly, signaling her to stand, as I kept a grip on her waist. We both found our feet and greeted the dogs with silent head pats before making our way into the kitchen.

“Sit,” I insisted, pulling out a barstool for her and patting it. She did as I instructed. I tossed my hat onto the island, running a hand through my unruly hair before rubbing it down my face. I turned to pull two glasses from the cabinet beside the fridge when I heard her small voice.

“It’s not your fault, either, Ty.”

I stopped, my eyes falling closed for a moment. I drew a deep breath as I opened the cabinet door. As I turned back to her with the cups in my hand, I whispered, “Yeah.”

We both knew I didn’t believe it. But that was okay. Because she hadn’t really believed it when I told her the same thing only moments earlier. That much I knew, despite her nod.

We sipped from our water glasses quietly, the only sounds in the house being the dogs’ nails as they walked across the floor. From the corner of my eye, I caught Peyton mindlessly resting a hand on her lower belly, just as she had done so often during the last two weeks. There was no bump, and now there wouldn’t be, but the act had been Peyton’s simple way of connecting with our baby. As the realization hit her, her arms fell to her side as I saw grief wash over her once more.

Standing, I coaxed Peyton off the barstool gently.

“Come on,” I whispered, hand on her lower back. “Upstairs.” She slowly dragged herself through the kitchen, down the hall, and up the long staircase, all energy seeming to have completely left her body.

I pushed open our bedroom door, both of us sensing the weight of the last time we were here together. We’d woken up in the early hours of the morning, giddy and giggly about the prospect of hearing our baby’s heartbeat and catching a first glimpse of him or her. We dreamed aloud about what the baby would be like.

Would he have brown hair like his dad? Would she have blue eyes like her mom? Hockey or basketball? Maybe a musician, or a writer. Jamie would insist on being the godfather, not that either of us would argue that, and we agreed that Candace should be godmother; Cassidy could have dibs on the next one, we would promise her, along with Peyton’s brother. One thing was certain — we already loved that child with everything in us.

And then that dream was gone, like a vapor.

With a deep sigh, Peyton sunk onto the edge of our bed. I reached for her face, holding her head between my hands as I stared at her. I pressed a slow, soft kiss to her perfect lips and whispered against her mouth, “I love you.” When I pulled back, her voice faltered as she settled for mouthing, “I love you.”

I sifted my hand through her hair as she spoke up. “I feel disgusting. Being in that office... I just feel... disgusting,” she said, hugging herself.

I nodded. Even I felt tainted by that space somehow, despite not being the one undergoing the examination. I turned my palms upward in front of her, and Peyton glanced up at me before gingerly placing her hands in mine. I pulled her into our en suite, grabbing towels out of the linen closet and turning on the shower. I turned my attention to Peyton next.

“Can I undress you, love?” I inquired. She nodded, staring at our feet. She held herself steady by leaning against my shoulders as I pulled down her jeans and panties. When I stood to pull her blouse from her torso, her eyes flicked skyward, filling with tears, and I immediately realized why.

Her normally flat belly still held a hint of a swell, bloated with the promise of what had been to come. Tears pricked at my own eyelids, and I avoided touching the area. I pulled her shirt over her head, off of her arms, and pressed her bare body against mine, resting my lips against her hairline.

“I know, sweetheart,” I soothed, kissing her forehead. “I know.” I felt her form shivering in my embrace.

I quickly removed my own clothing before guiding her into the shower in front of me. I closed the glass door behind us and ushered her beneath the warm water, pushing her hair away from her face as her head fell back against my shoulder. I pressed chaste kisses to her neck and shoulder as I let the water flow over us, hugging her waist to mine.

We stood still for several minutes, the stream soothing our tense muscles, before I reached beside me for Peyton’s shampoo.

“Ty, you don’t have to—“ “Yes, I do,” I softly interrupted.

Peyton lifted her head from my chest, and I spun her around to face me. I squeezed the floral-scented gel from the bottle and lathered it into her hair, taking extra care to massage her scalp with my nails as I washed her long locks. She released a lengthy sigh and tilted her head to allow me better access as I scrubbed her head. When I was finished, I grasped her shoulders gently and tipped her further into the streaming water to rinse her hair, pulling my hands along its length as the suds traveled down her body and toward the drain.

Next, she allowed me to repeat the routine with her conditioner, then I reached for her pink loofah to finish cleansing her. I poured her favorite body wash onto the sponge and scrubbed small circles along her neck, shoulders, arms, and breasts. I couldn’t help my hesitation when I reached her stomach. I let out a choked gasp, hot tears blurring my vision. I heard a whimper escape Peyton’s lips as I leaned my forehead against hers, slowly sliding the loofah along her abdomen as she held tightly to my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her ear as I finished cleaning her torso. She shook her head once more, looking up at me with eyes softer than they’d been since morning.

“I’m sorry, too,” she responded, reaching her hand to cup my cheek.

After kneeling to lather up her backside, legs, and feet, I stood upright again and guided Peyton to sit under the other showerhead on the opposite side, on the built-in bench. She obliged, stretching her neck and back slowly, trying to roll out the tightness, as I hurriedly washed my hair and then lathered up my skin with my own loofah. After rinsing, I shut off the water, extending my hand to Peyton as she stood slowly.

“Are you feeling any pain, Peyt?” I inquired as she stepped onto the plush bath mat. I was fearful of her answer. I reached to grab our towels, tucking one around my waist before covering her shoulders with another.

“No, nothing yet,” she murmured as I began to dry her off. “Which makes it even weirder.” I nodded.

On the drive home, I had vaguely recalled the doctor saying that Peyton’s body would likely take care of the failed pregnancy naturally, and that she should expect some moderate bleeding in the next few days. If nothing happened within that time frame, Peyton was to call the office to schedule a procedure to clean out her system.

I wasn’t sure which sounded more terrifying. I was pretty certain that Peyton wasn’t sure either. And right now, I just couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I toweled Peyton off gently from head to toe, then extended a fresh towel to her so that she could wrap her own hair as she liked to do after showering.

“I’ll go get clothes while you do that,” I said. She nodded. “Thanks, hon,” she replied. I gave her my best smile as I leaned into the doorpost, but even I felt it falter before heading out toward our dressers.

I threw on a pair of boxers, pushing my fingers through my damp hair. I then pulled an old long-sleeved Team Canada t-shirt from my drawer, one of Peyton’s favorite items to steal, despite the way it nearly swallowed up her small frame, the hem falling at the middle of her thighs. I grabbed a clean pair of her panties from the “comfy section” of her lingerie drawer, as she dubbed it, and stepped back into the bathroom.

A small, genuine smile stretched across my lips as I saw Peyton’s hair swept atop her head in the bath towel I’d given her, as she squeezed the excess moisture into the terry cloth. I was forever making fun of that part of her post-shower routine. Knowingly, she returned my smirk as I passed off her clothing. She took note of my selections.

“Thank you, love,” she said quietly, pulling the towel from her head and letting it fall to the floor. I picked it up before she could bend over herself, and she gave me a grateful look as she pulled on the shirt and underwear with a sigh. I hung the towel on the hooks beside us and approached her from behind, resting my hands on her biceps as I inhaled the fresh scent of her soft, blonde hair.

“Spray your stuff in your hair and I’ll brush it for you,” I suggested, nose still atop her head. She nodded slightly. I stepped away to allow her to spritz the conditioning oil she used daily through her damp mane. When she was finished, she handed me the brush from our bathroom counter, the two of us exchanging a tender look in the mirror.

When we first began dating, I constantly had my hands in Peyton’s hair — wet, dry, messy, curled, straight. It didn’t matter. I always asked to brush it and was forever pulling on it to tease her. She was constantly pushing my hands away and accusing me of messing up her carefully coiffed styles. I tried to reign myself in, and my obsession with her locks did lessen, but only slightly. It had been ages, though, since I’d taken the time to brush her hair, and it felt like the perfect gesture in this moment — a chance to take care of her, since I was unable to fully care for her in the ways I wanted to most.

I took the brush from her and began to pull it through her locks, watching as she closed her eyes while I repeated the brush strokes. I brushed her damp head for probably much longer than I needed to as she seemed to relax a bit under my touch. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me.

“I know I keep saying it, but... thank you, Ty. Thank you for taking such good care of me,” Peyton said in a low voice. I lowered the brush to the counter and moved to stand between her legs, with Peyton wrapping her arms around my hips, head resting against my stomach.

“This is what we meant when we said in sickness and in health,” I told her, my chin resting against the part in her hair. “This isn’t going to be pretty, but I swear to God, I won’t leave your side. Not now, not ever. I’ll be here taking care of you however I can, through it all.”

I heard sniffles from her as I stepped back from her, taking her hand as I said, “Let’s just lay down.” She nodded, swiping at a couple of fallen tears, as we exited the bathroom and made our way to the bed. I pulled back the duvet and climbed in first, Peyton crawling up next to me and curling into my side. I felt her sigh once more and my heart ached so deeply for her — for us.

“I love you, Peyton,” I whispered. “I swear, we’ll make it through this. Together.”

I felt her nod slightly. “Together. I love you, too.”

With her head on my chest, after an emotionally and mentally exhausting day, and a physically draining one for her, she soon found sleep, as I silently promised that I would never give up on our dream or having a child together someday.

[babyflossy]

the worst possible day | p.js

pairing: park jisung x reader

requested: yes! requests are still open but due to exams (yikes) they’re coming at a much slower pace :(

summary: when everything possible goes wrong, the one thing you can rely on is finding comfort from jisung

genre/warnigns: fluff, college au i guess, unedited as always

word count: 1.87k

it wouldn't be overexaggerating to say it had been possibly the worst day you had experienced at your time in college. from the moment you were pulled abruptly from your slumber after sleeping through your alarm, it had only gone downhill. the train you took to campus had been delayed, resulting in you being even later. this meant you had to catch the bus instead, which not only took twice as long, but you had to put up with a man standing far too close to you. his breath fanned down your neck and you caught eyes with a woman across the aisle shooting you a worried look. you tried to smile at her but were sure it came out as a grimace.

at first you tried to stay hopeful, reasoning that just because your morning went terribly, it didn't mean your afternoon had to follow suit.

your hope diminished the moment your history professor handed you back your most recent essay, a sympathetic smile on his face at the D written in red ink. the note he had written next to it expressed his disappointment, saying you were usually top of the class and had asked what happened. with regret, you thought back to the night you wrote the essay; hurried typing and rushed plans splayed across your desk after you left yourself a measly two hours to finish it.

looking back, you should probably learn not to trust your luck.

after your history class the only thing you could do was wait for the next bad to thing happen. fate seemed to laugh at you, watching as you tripped over someone's bag, everything in your arms spilling out onto the pavement. everything, including your delicate little phone and you could only watch as it shot the ground, the cracking sound making your heart sink. as expected, a black shattered screen stared back at you, mockingly. you picked up the rest of your things and hurried away, scrunching your eyes to stop the tears from spilling.

donghyuck's mop of hair caught your eye, now dyed a pleasant shade of rose gold. he spotted you nearly straight away, a bright smile on his face as he pushed through a group of people to meet you. "hey, short stack," he called. as he got closer and noticed the sad frown on your face his smile morphed into a mix of concern and surprise, his lips turning downwards. "are you okay? you look like you're about to cry."

you shook your head and painted on what you hoped was a convincing smile. "no, i'm fine. are you meeting up with the guys for lunch?" for the second time in an hour your heart shrank at the look on his face. you could hear his next words.

"we just ate," he offered you a half smile, not missing the way your smile fell once again. "we texted you, but you didn't reply. we figured you ate with someone from your history class." in reality, you were supposed to meet up with chaeryeong but she ditched last minute, gushing about some boy called minho.

"oh, my phone broke," and to distract yourself, "are you going out tonight?"

"yeah i think we're going to that club on the corner near the pizza place," you contemplated it for a moment. the prospect of going out and completely forgetting your terrible day was appealing, but with how your day had gone you would probably break an ankle or get hit by a car. donghyuck watched your inner debate before telling you what he knew would be the deciding factor. "jisung's staying at the dorms, though. something about a test tomorrow."

the smile that information brought to your face was almost laughable to donghyuck.

after finding out you could spend a peaceful night alone with jisung, you thought your day would finally start to improve. thoughts of wrapping yourself in a blanket with him and ordering pizza filled your head as you made your way to your final class. the chemistry lab was filling slowly as you arrived and you rushed in, spotting yeri at your shared bench. she handed you goggles and a lab coat as you dropped your bag and kicked it under the table.

"hey," she greeted, eyes still on the test tube she was already heating, "i texted you earlier to ask if you wanted to come out tonight? girls' night."

yeri handed you the test tube holder and moved on to measuring out the next liquid and you scanned the practical plan quickly. you shook your head, watching as the acid started to bubble "sorry, my phone broke earlier. i have plans tonight but i'll come out next time yeah?"

"yeah, no problem," she shot you a kind smile and you momentarily feel eternally grateful for having such a friendly lab partner. you shot her a smile back and scanned over the list of reactants you would need, making a mental list. "are you doing anything nice– woah, be careful!"

the panic in her voice made your head shoot up from the paper, noticing what she was looking at a fraction of a second too late. the boiling acid bubbled over the top of the tube, spitting the hot corrosive liquid straight onto your hand. you dropped the clamps into the sink and swore loudly, the burning making your eyes swell with tears. she rushed over, grabbing your hand carefully and turning the cold tap on full.

"oh my god, are you okay?" the worry in her voice alerted your professor and she dashed over, concern covering her face. she took your hand from yeri and examined it from under the flow of water. the cold liquid calmed the pain momentarily, leaving only a sharp sting which quickly turned to an intense ache.

"what happened?" your teacher asked, looking at the broken test tube in the sink. yeri explained the acid boiling over and you looked anywhere but at your hand, trying your hardest not to cry. after a few minutes she withdrew your hand and you saw the deep red mark covering it. "luckily the acid wasn't corrosive today, it's just burns from the temperature. i'll wrap it for you, but it doesn't look very bad."

after your hand had been bandaged and you had been fed painkillers for the sting, the teacher agreed with yeri that it was best to let you go home early. due to the time the train was significantly emptier than normal and you managed to get a seat as the train pulled away from the platform. before you even got to the train station you had decided not to go to your dorm, but to jisung's, excited at the prospect of being in his arms.

jaemin let you in, throwing an arm around your shoulder and telling you about his dream girl he met at the campus cafe. you laughed along with him, feeling the tightness in your chest ease just being in your friends' apartment. "jisung's showering but i'll tell him you're here." you hummed in response as he sauntered off again, whistling a tune so cheerful it was obvious his day had been infintely better than yours.

the time waiting for jisung's appearance was spent rustling through their fridge, seeing nothing but a bottle of vodka and a bow of grapes. momentarily contemplating the vodka, your hand swapped over the two before rolling your eyes and picking the grapes. you're not gonna drink away your sadness, y/n, you scolded yourself, picking the shiniest green grape and popping it into your mouth.

down the hall you heard the door to jisung and chenle's shared room open and you rushed to place the bowl down. you had moved too quick, however, and the bowl wobbled on the side of the counter before falling, hitting the floor with shatter, the china splintering outwards. the sight made your eyes water again, but this time you couldn't stop the hot tears from escaping. they clouded your vision and just as another wave escaped, two delicate thumbs came to wipe them away.

when jaemin told jisung his girlfriend had arrived, he hadn't expected to find you stood in the middle of their kitchen, staring at a broken bowl of grapes and crying. the sight was almost laughable, but he prevented himself, stepping over the shattered bowl fragments and taking your face into his hands. "hey, hey, hey," he pulled your chin up to look at him, leaning down to meet your gaze when your eyes didn't stray from the grapes. "why are you crying?"

his words only made you cry harder, twisting your arms and wrapping them tightly around his torso, burying your head in his hoodie. it smelled just like him, you noticed in delight, and the smell calmed your tears slightly.

"i broke the bowl," your muffled voice floated from his chest and jisung dropped his head to rest on top of yours, rubbing his hand soothingly in circles on your back.

"the bowl doesn't matter, y/n," a chuckle vibrated through his chest and the sound offered you more comfort than imaginable. when you finally broke away from his chest, eyeing the damp patches your tears had left he met your watery eyes with concerned ones. "what's really wrong?"

a sigh escaped you, fresh tears threatening to fall as you thought back to your dreadful day. jisung's fingers wiped them away as you explained. "i've had the worst day," he shot you a sad smile. "you know when you have those days where everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong? it was one of them. i even spilt burning acid on my hand in chemistry."

his eyes widened comically, pushing your shoulders so he could examine your hands, eyebrows creasing at the thick bandages covering your left one. after insisting you were okay you found yourself wrapped in his arms again, sprawled across the sofa. moments prior, he had held your hands gently as he pulled your shirt off, replacing it with what he coined the 'emotional support hoodie'. as much as you laughed at him, it truly was like wearing a cloud with the way the arms hung low past your hands. as it turns out, spending a whole day trying not to cry was exhausting, and as soon as you rested your head into the crook of his neck, you were asleep.

after your crying-induced slumber, jisung had ordered pizza. the rest of the boys had left already, meaning you and jisung could build a pillow fort in the living room, sure to scare the rest of them when they came home drunk the next morning. you had already promised each other to film them as blackmail, as per usual. the prospect of adding to your video bank of jeno arguing with his reflection was much too appealing to avoid.

movies played on the tv as you waited for them to come home, the two of feeding each other slices and laughing when one of you tried to playfully bite the other. waking up in jisung's arms had felt like the dawn of a new day, even if it was only hours later. the dawn of a very positive, crying-free day.

a/n: really not sure if i like this :/, espically the ending lol

[polarispluie]

With Fire

Eliott leads a normal life, he attends school, works on his films, attempts to cook for himself. It’s all pretty boring until the new neighbor knocks on his door.

Or: Eliott has a boring life until he gains a really cute neighbor that’s terrified of spiders.

Eliott would say his life is pretty uneventful. He wakes up at 6:30 in the morning every day, he showers, gets dressed and makes himself toast (slathered in butter or Nutella depending on the day) he goes back into the bathroom and brushes his teeth, gathers his things then heads out the door for class.

Class is the same every day, the students get feedback from the professor for the work they’ve done so far, then decide if they want to film or edit for the rest of the time. Eliott always decides to edit, preferring to film at home or set up spontaneous shoots in random locations he walks by when out.

After class, he walks home and attempts to make himself lunch (which almost always ends up with him having to order takeout). He watches tv or works on his projects for the rest of the day until his eyes are heavy and his brain is sluggish and he heads off to bed.

With this routine, Eliott would definitely say that his life is borderline boring.

Until today.

It’s 10 in the morning on a Saturday when Eliott is woken up to scraping noises coming from the wall next to his bed. He checks his phone, sees the time and groans. Call him lazy or a sloth all you want, he wakes up before 7 every day of the week, he deserves to sleep until at least 11:30 on weekends; anything before that is ungodly.

With all the noise going on in the apartment next door, Eliott decides that he won’t be getting any more sleep- much to his dismay. He stretches and sits up, grabbing his phone and getting a text from the landlord saying that there’s a new tenant and they’ll be moving in so pardon the noise.

Eliott scoffs, tosses his phone back into the pillow and heaves himself out of bed.

The rest of the day goes on like normal, apart from the constant noise in the background. Eliott can hear boxes being set down and furniture being arranged as he works on the couch. It’s all normal until he hears a muffled scream.

He jumps a little bit at the sound, waiting to hear anything else. When no other sounds come from the wall, he goes back to work. It takes about fifteen seconds until there’s a knock at his door. He sighs and gets up, stretching and heading over to the door.

When he opens it, a young guy is standing there, his blue eyes and hair wild, sweat dripping down his temples, his face a bit red. Eliott raises an eyebrow a bit, waiting for the other to speak up.

“Uh- hi, I’m Lucas. I’m moving in next door and- fuck. Okay, this is really lame but there’s a fucking huge spider in my kitchen and it’s only me here and can you just come over and kill it, I’m so sorry.” Lucas quickly rambles off. He’s tapping his finger against his thigh, looking desperate for Eliott to say yes.

Eliott studies him for a second before smiling and nodding, “Yeah, sure. Lead the way.” He follows Lucas into the apartment left of his and steps into the kitchen. He examines the space before turning to Lucas with his head tilted, “Where did you see it?”

Lucas points to the sink area and backs up to the opposite wall, staring at the spot his finger leads to. Eliott nods and walks over to the sink, ready to squash the eight-legged arachnid for his neighbor. He looks in the sink until he zeroes in on what he was looking for, his eyes squinting.

Eliott usually never laughs at people. He’s a decent person and understands that people have different reasons to be scared of things. Being scared of spiders is one of the most popular fears a person can have so he gets it. What he doesn’t get, however, is how Lucas made it seem like this was the biggest spider in the world. It was in the corner of the sink and about the size of a dime, barely noticeable if you weren’t actively looking for it.

Eliott sucks in a breath to stop himself from laughing, lip quivering as he reaches into the sink and cups the insect into his hands. He turned around to a horrified Lucas who was shaking his head with comically wide eyes. “Get that thing out of here, oh my god, get that thing out now.”

Eliott lets out a laugh and walks over to the living room window, putting his hand to the wall and watching the spider scurry off. He turns back around and smiles at Lucas, “Well, no more spiders to come and eat you in your sleep.”

“That’s an actual fear of mine. Don’t even joke about that.” Lucas narrows his eyes at Eliott, the latter letting out a shocked laugh.

“You realize that’s not possible, right?”

“I’m aware.” Lucas rolls his eyes, a small smile stretching out on his lips, “Anyways, yeah, hi. I’m Lucas and I’m your new neighbor that’s extremely terrified of spiders.”

Eliott smiles at him before answering, “Hi, I’m Eliott and I’m the neighbor that just saved you from being attacked by an extremely terrifying spider.” Lucas laughed, giving a quick thanks to Eliott before shaking his hand.

“I don’t have much but I can get you something to drink if you’d like?” Lucas walks over to the fridge and opens it to reveal water, soda, and sparkling water (Really? Who drinks sparkling water?). Lucas pulls out water for himself and gestures to the drinks.

Eliott sends him a small smile but shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I have a project due soon that I have to get back to.”

Lucas closes the fridge and nods his head, “Yeah, okay, thanks for- you know.” He scrunches up his nose and scratches the back of his neck.

“No problem, if you need saving again you know where to find me.” Lucas laughs and leads him to the front door, opening it and sending his neighbor off with a wave.

So it goes on like this for a while. At any random point of the day, Eliott will be interrupted by frantic knocks on his door. It always opens to reveal a panicked, red-faced Lucas.

Eliott notices that eight times out of ten, the spider (which he never kills because that’s cruel) is hardly worth freaking out about. He never mentions that to Lucas of course, too fond of the boy to invalidate him.

Throughout the ten spiders that Eliott has taken out of the apartment (Lucas has lived here for a month, Eliott has no idea how or why there’s been so many) the two gradually became closer. After Eliott removes the arachnid, Lucas always offers him a drink.

“Lucas, for the twentieth time no I don’t want sparkling water.”

“But Eliott, I’ve had it for so long.”

“You don’t even like sparkling water.”

“Which is why you have to drink it.”

“Why do you even have it if you don’t like it?”

“What if someone comes over and they do?”

“Tell them to leave. They’re not human. Besides, you didn’t have to buy a whole case of it.”

“Don’t question me.”

Eliott laughs and rolls his eyes. He watches Lucas fondly as he continues ranting about sparkling water and why it (and everyone who enjoys it) should be thrown into the Seine. He knows that somewhere along the way, he started to like Lucas. It was inevitable. He’s funny and kind and chaotic and fucking pretty.

He doesn’t notice Lucas trying to get his attention until there’s a hand waving two inches from his nose. “Hello? I’m trying to have a serious discussion here.”

Eliott blinks a couple of times and gives Lucas a warm smile. “Sorry, it’s just really cute when you go off on a tangent.” Lucas opens his mouth a bit and closes it again, his neck turning a bit pink as he squints at Eliott.

“Shut up.” It’s meant to come out intimidating, but Lucas’ voice is barely above a whisper. Eliott shrugs and leans back into the couch as if to say I’m just telling the truth. Lucas huffs and flops back into the cushions, pulling his phone out and pulling it close to his face.

Eliott stretches his arms above his head and lets out a groan before slapping his hands onto his knees and getting up. “Well, I gotta go. This fucking assignment is killing me and I’m gonna gouge my eyes out if I don’t finish it soon.”

Lucas nods and tosses his phone to the side, not even bothering to turn it off first. He sits up and holds out his hand for Eliott’s help. Eliott grabs onto his hand and quickly hoists him up onto his feet. Lucas stumbles and falls into Eliott’s chest, scrambling away as soon as possible with an even pinker face.

Eliott smiles down at him and leans a bit closer, Lucas breath hitching at the proximity. Lucas’ eyes flicker down for a second before returning his gaze to Eliott’s eye, lips slightly parting. His eyes slip shut as Eliott goes to close the distance between them before pulling back and bopping his nose, “That project really needs finishing. I’ll see myself out.”

Eliott stands there long enough to see Lucas’ dazed eyes open and hear him exhale a soft, shaky breath before spinning on his heel and walking out of the apartment.

He doesn’t see Lucas that much after that and when he does, it’s in passing. He always gives a bright smile to his neighbor, reveling in the way Lucas looks away with a more colored face than a few seconds prior. It’s not until the following week that he gets to talk to him again.

Eliott has a rare day where he’s not doing anything in particular and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He turns on the tv for a good ten minutes before realizing that nothing is on. He looks over his DVDs before realizing that god he’s sick of films right now so he goes to the couch and scrolls on his phone before getting bored of that.

He decides that he’ll go and get something from a cafe, not wanting to make an attempt at cooking that will just end up in the garbage. He slips some jeans and his shoes on, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything and heads out the door. He just about closes his door before he hears a commotion coming from his left.

“Yann, I swear to fucking god if you don’t kill this spider.” Lucas’ voice is desperate as he pulls on a tall, dark-skinned guy’s arm. The guy, Yann, is looking at Lucas with an exasperated expression; clearly having gone through this with his friend many times before.

“Lucas, it’s on the ceiling. I know I’m taller than you but come on, it’s impossible to get.” Lucas makes a noise of protest and tries to pull him back into the apartment but Yann plants his feet on the ground and leans back, making it hard for Lucas to move him.

Lucas glares at him before letting go of his wrist, sending Yann to the floor with a gasp, “That’s what you get, bitch.”

Yann flips him off as he rubs his arm, “God, you’re so fucking dramatic. Just get your boyfriend next door to do it, maybe you’ll actually get a kiss this time so you can stop being a whiny bitch.”

Eliott makes a noise at the back of his throat which causes the two others in the hall to snap their heads in his direction. Lucas’ eyes widened and he lets out a squeak, Yann looks confused looking between the two until realization washes over his features and he quickly gets to his feet.

“Hi. Eliott? I’m Yann.” he looks over Eliott’s face before nodding and looking at Lucas, “You’re right, he’s cute.”

Lucas made a noise before hitting Yann’s arm, “Please, please. Shut up.” Yann shrugs and smiles back at Eliott.

“Well, I have work, nice meeting you Eliott. See ya.” Yann pats Lucas’ cheek, dodges a swipe directed at his head and heads down the hall to the stairs.

Eliott’s left with confusion and his cute neighbor scratching the tip of his nose. He steps closer until Lucas looks up and him, raising his eyebrows, “Cute? Is that all I am?” Lucas scoffs and mumbles a shut up, “Well, guess I’ll have to show you that I’m more than a pretty face. Are you free on Friday?”

Lucas' mouth falls agape before he nods slowly, “Yeah, Friday is good.” Eliott flashes a smile and rubs his nose against Lucas’ before pulling back and tapping his finger to the end of it.

“Now, where’s this spider?” He glides into Lucas’ apartment before the other can say anything, ready to extract any and every spider in the building to make Lucas happy.

[theasstour]

0210. Andante.

Friday, 11 March 2016

FIC PAGE | CHAPTER SYMPHONY | WORD COUNT: 9.3k

NB: alcohol, explicit language, sexual content

The room was quiet as Y/N glided her finger over the book before her on her desk while reading, her laptop softly playing Siegfried Idyll by Richard Wagner. The sun shone in through her room, the only light she needed as she was gathering quotes, sources, and information to add to her essay due next week. Sipping her cuppa, she stopped her finger as she found a good sentence to cite, quickly writing it down in her Word Document on her laptop before going back to the book. Whenever she was doing research for an essay, she always thought the reading part was the worst one. This was when she had to really pay attention and figure out the ins and outs of her essay. Once this was done, the writing bit flew by. Research was always the least exciting bit. Not that any part of writing an essay was exciting, but this part was particularly dreadful.

She sat back in her chair, enjoying the calming way the flute drifted through the air like a beautiful waltz. Dancing its way to her and doing wonders to her nerves. It was incredible how music could calm her down like this. While she held the cup of tea between her hands and sunk further down into her chair, she heard her phone vibrate with an incoming text message. She glanced over at it on the edge of her desk, where it laid next to a bottle of white wine and caramel muffins from Sainsbury’s.

Very early that exact morning, Tiana and Teresa had knocked on Y/N’s door. They knew she would be awake as she needed to work on her essay, so tapping lightly on her door to ask for her attention hadn’t been a problem. Tiana had been grinning from ear to ear, Teresa seemed less excited as she shuffled into Y/N’s room in her robe and curly hair resembling a bird’s nest.

“Happy birthday, babes.” Tiana had said, producing a bottle of white wine and a two-pack of caramel muffins. “Thought you’d need this today since you’re working on that dreadful essay.”

“Happy birthday, mate.” Teresa mumbled; eyes barely open.

“Not going to disturb your essay research, but here’s your birthday present.” Tiana put them on Y/N’s desk before giving her a hug. “Okay, we’ll let you be now. Good luck, and happy birthday.”

Teresa had disappeared out the door before Tiana had even managed to turn around to even attempt to leave the room. Y/N was left alone then, which was exactly how she liked spending her birthday. Both her flatmates knew this, hence why they had given her her birthday gift and then left her to her own company. Y/N guessed it was because of the added attention your birthday gave you, that it was the reason why she didn’t like spending hers in the company of others. Though she had gotten more comfortable in her own skin over the last year, she still didn’t appreciate attention she hadn’t asked for. The wine and muffins were therefore the best birthday gift Y/N could ever have asked for. Putting her mug down on her desk, she reached for the muffins and started eating one before picking her phone up to read the text. Her heart did a backflip.

Harry What’re you up to today? x

The essay was forgotten by the appearance of that name on her phone. Opening the text message, she read it over again before she began to type.

Y/N Right now I’m writing an important essay, but going out for dinner later.

Trying to tell herself that texting Harry wasn’t as big of a deal as her heart was making it out to be, she put her phone down on the desk again and turned back to her book. It didn’t even take a minute for Harry to reply, and only 10 seconds for Y/N to give in and read what he had sent her.

Harry Wicked. Mates treating you? Might have to come so I can do it myself.

Y/N So you can do what?

Harry Treat the birthday girl.

Harry Happy birthday, darling.

Harry Kinda wanna give you your birthday present right away.

Harry But part of it is in my mouth and the other is between your legs. So we need to physically be in the same room for it to happen.

Y/N could feel her whole face heat up with the massive blush that was moving in a warm wave over her.

Y/N Seems like we have to be in the same room soon then.

Harry Yes please.

Y/N Not going out with the flatmates, but you’re free to tag along regardless.

Harry With who?

Y/N My family. Byron, Hammersmith Grove.

She stared at her phone, waiting for Harry to keep on typing. He was always so quick to get back to her, always eager to keep the conversation going, but he suddenly disappeared. The reason was most likely innocent, like Finn knocking on Harry’s door to ask some stupid question about plagiarism in essays or Wade playing Sage the Gemini too loudly from his room, disturbing Harry as he did his uni work. Whenever they weren’t talking, she missed him, and that was why she felt her heart go heavy in her chest when Harry left her on read. Going back to her reading, Y/N managed to find another citation that might be helpful to strengthen her case in her essay, before Harry finally texter her back. She reached for her phone embarrassingly fast.

Harry No, you’re going to dinner with your family. Don’t want to intrude.

She frowned, never having known Harry to turn down a social gathering. He loved getting to know new people and being social, which was why she thought the text a bit odd. Biting her lip, she tapped in a reply.

Y/N You’re not intruding, I’m asking you to join us.

Harry It’s fine, Y/N, I’ll treat you some other time. Spend time with your family, you’ve been away from each other for a while.

And just like that, she was smiling again. He was so respectful of her space and her time spent with her family. He knew her family meant loads to her, Edward more than anyone in the world, so him stepping back meant the world. She did want him to come with, but she understood why he stood this one out. She gave the message a heart, threw her phone on her bed so it wouldn’t distract her again, and then she went back to reading more for her essay.

When Y/N walked out the front door and saw her familiar family car, it was hard not to notice how she was literally shaking with excitement at see her family again. The early spring evening was dark, leaving the streetlights to shine down on the car that still had its engine going and that held the people she held dearest. Tugging her coat, a little tighter around her, she did a mental check list in her head of things she should remember to bring before leaving the house. Her keys, wallet, phone, umbrella. She smiled to herself once checking off all the items on the small list, and then proceeded to walk down towards the car.

“Poppet!” Her father rolled down the window, the biggest beam on his face as he watched his daughter strolling down to him and the family. “God, it’s so good to see you, come here!”

Y/N walked over to him, giving him a hug and receiving a kiss on the cheek. Opening her eyes, she saw her mum sitting behind the wheel, holding her hand out for Y/N to take a grip of. She did, and Allison squeezed Y/N’s hand hard in hers before letting go. She jumped into the car, grinning at Edward as she closed the door behind her.

“Goose.” Edward said, giving Y/N a nod.

“Maverick.”

Y/N flung herself at her brother, hugging him tight as the car echoed with his laughter. He held her to him, sighing into her hair and not letting her go till George told them they had to get going, it would be hard to find a parking spot so they had to leave now. Y/N sat back in her seat, putting the seatbelt on and feeling herself smiling stupid big. Their mother drove them to Hammersmith where they found one lousy parking spot a few streets down from the restaurant. Y/N shoved her brother, listening to him talk about the cows and how their dad had just sown some new Christmas trees this passing week. To passer-byers this might sound like the most boring conversation in the world, but this was a normal conversation topic in the Pictor family. They discussed their farm and the little gossip of Hawkley most of the time, finding it more than highly amusing.

As they strolled into one of the burger chain restaurant, Byron, a waiter showed them to their table with comfortable space for Edward’s wheelchair and the rest of the family to sit back and relax. It was quiet among them as they looked through the menu, studying the different dishes and only ever talking if they said something along the lines of “You’d like this one”, something Edward and Y/N had a tendency of constantly doing.

“Right,” George said as they received their food some time later. “How is university going, poppet?”

Y/N examined her guacamole burger, feeling her stomach growl at the sight. “Good. Been reading for an essay due next week all day. My head’s hurting because of it so can’t wait to eat this in one bite.”

George laughed. “I’m glad it’s going so well.”

“Your father and I was so worried when we left you in London your first year, I remember.” Allison reminisced, putting some of her salad in her mouth. “You were so scared and alone. We genuinely didn’t think you’d last very long.”

“Cheers.” Y/N picked up her fork and knife, cutting into the burger that was way too tall for her to bite into without some help.

“No, not in a bad way!” Allison righted herself. “We just figured maybe university in the capital wasn’t for you, but you seem to have found your place after all.”

Looking up at her mother again, she saw her smiling.

“We’re so proud of everything you’re doing, honey. You’re the reason Edward himself applied for uni.”

“Mum.” Edward sighed. “That’s not true. I’ve always wanted to attend uni.”

“Ah, well, your sister’s great experience at university hasn’t exactly lessened your drive you go.”

Y/N smirked at her brother. “I’m your role model, aren’t I?”

“Shut up, you’re the worst person I know.”

They giggled, returning to their attention to their food. Shoving a bite into her mouth, Y/N chewed it as she tapped Eddie’s hand. He swallowed his own bite and glanced back at his sister.

“What?”

“Have you decided on which uni to attend yet?” She grinned at him, resting her chin in the palm of her hand and focusing all her attention on him. Edward had gotten an offer from four out of five universities, which was incredibly good considering he had taken a year off doing nothing. He had told Y/N about the news when he had heard back from all of them in February, but he had yet to talk her through his thought process in choosing the right one for him. It as a big decision, and she knew Edward knew that.

“Dunno.” Edward mumbled, eyes falling to his lap. “Kinda leaning more towards one than the others, but… dunno.”

“Alright then, which one?” Y/N cut another piece of her burger, putting it in her mouth as Edward started talking.

“University of Southampton,” he informed, still not looking up but rather at his hands as he absentmindedly dragged his index fingers back and forth over his thumbs. “Fine Art.”

“That’s great!” Y/N exclaimed before swallowing her bite, making her mum hiss at her to swallow before she opened her mouth to talk. “You know which uni to go for!”

“I’m not 100% sure yet, though.” Edward went back to his food instead of just staring into space. “Still need to think about it some more.”

“Why aren’t you sure?” Y/N furrowed her brows, not taking her eyes off of Eddie. “What’s on your mind? What’s holding you back?”

It took some time for him to answer. She could see him rummaging his brain for the right way to put it, as it he was scared she wouldn’t get what he was about to confess. It almost seemed like he was afraid she wouldn’t understand.

“I’m scared of choosing wrong.” He finally said. “What if I go to Southampton and it bloody sucks? What if Reading would’ve been a better choice for me, but I’ll never know because I went for Southampton?”

She sipped her Coke, shaking her head a little. “But you’ll never know unless you actually go somewhere.”

“That’s what dad’s been saying this whole time.” Edward groaned. “But where? I’m just so terrified of doing the wrong thing.”

“There’s nothing that’s called ‘doing the wrong thing’. You do what you want to do because you want to do it, and you don’t need a reason or any sort of rational explanation for it.” Y/N said, thinking back to that time a very special person had said almost the exact same thing to her. And now she was giving his advice to someone else as her own. “If you’re leaning more towards Southampton just because then that’s good enough and you should go.”

Edward took a long look at his sister, studying all her facial features and analysing her words. Gradually, a smile started spreading across his lips. “You’re saying I should go Southampton, then?”

“I’m saying you should go with whatever will make you happy.” She smiled back at him. “What’s the point of choosing something if it’s not going to make you happy in the end? You know going to uni is going to be worth it in the end, it’s just a matter of going and doing it.”

Edward’s smile turned not a full on beam, chuckling a little at his older sister before he took a huge bite of his burger. He swallowed. “You’re so mature, Goose.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him before she went back to her burger as well. “Haven’t I always been?”

“Nope.” Edward shook his head dramatically. “Since going away you’ve earned some new perspectives on things. You were the exact same as me before you chose and went away for uni, ain’t that right, dad?”

“Oh, yes.” George hummed into his pint. “You couldn’t choose between Battersea and… Swansea, was it? Can’t remember if it was that one or Cardiff you were debating between.”

Y/N let herself think for a second, finding herself clueless. “Neither can I.” She looked up at her family, huffing out a single chuckle. “Can’t remember the other universities I applied for other than Battie.”

Allison grinned. “You really love it here, don’t you, lovely?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. I’ve made so many friends, my course is great, my house, the experiences, the city…” she sighed lovingly. “Everything.”

“So you really mean it?” Edward asked, his sister’s eyes meeting his again. “I should go for it? Choose Southampton?”

Y/N wiped her mouth with the napkin beside her plate, turning her body in Edward’s direction and resting her hand on his armrest. “Do you think going to University of Southampton and studying Fine Art would make you happy, Eddie?”

It’s hard making life altering decisions. The looming threat in the back of your head that you might be making the wrong choice, or the big question of “What’s next” is ever-present when your life changes. No one wants to be in the wrong, because it means you have to start up again and walk up the same road you just did, only now doing a different turn than the time prior. Choosing the path of your education meant you’d have to work with the topic of your course for the rest of your life, something Y/N saw was one of Edwards’ fears. He was afraid he’d hate Fine Art. But Y/N knew that if it had intrigued him in the first place, then it must be something there worth experiencing.

He nodded.

“Wait,” George put his cutlery down on his plate. “Did you just decide what uni you wanted to go to?”

Edward looked at his dad, sitting up a bit straighter. “Yeah, I did. I’m 100% sure I want to go for Southampton and Fine Art.”

Allison squealed a little, clapping her hands together before getting out of her chair and jogging over to her son. Kissing his cheek, Edward giggled as he tried to push her away, and though he told her to stop, Y/N knew he secretly loved it when their mum was proud of him like this. George gave his son a high five and Y/N squeezed his hand.

The rest of the dinner went by rather quickly. They discussed Edward accepting the offer when they got home and applying for student accommodation, which he had already checked out because he needed a special room and a person to help him at all times. Once everyone was done eating and the bill was paid, the family walked to the nearest Amorino where George wanted to treat his family to an ice cream each, even though it was fairly cold out. Edward chose caramel and banana, Y/N copying him, and when George handed her the ice cream cone, he beamed at her.

“Happy birthday, poppet.”

She smiled, having almost forgotten what day it was because of how happy she had been to see her family and hear Edward settle on uni of Southampton.

“Thank you, dad.” She kissed his cheek, earning a quick peck to her forehead before George started pushing Edward’s wheelchair out of the store and back to the car.

Friday, 18 March 2016

The house was quiet, it was a fairly warm day, and the birds were chirping in the tree outside Y/N’s window. She was writing the last bit of her essay, really feeling like she was getting a grip of it, like this wouldn’t be the worst she had ever done. Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini was playing as she started reading through her essay to make sure it was actually making sense. It was to be handed in before 3pm, and though she had finished it two days ago, she had spent today adding, cutting, and editing the whole text before handing it in. She would check her resources after this, that they were all cited the right way and then, at last, she’d read it again. She felt so accomplished, and weather wise, it was such a good day. But the best part about today laid across her bed.

Harry was wearing skinny ankle grazer trousers in black and ecru stripe, a white tee shirt tucked into it, and black suspenders crossing at the back, and down his broad shoulders to hook at the trouser top in the front. His signature silver chain hung from his belt hoops, shining in the light from the sun and sticking out to her the second Harry had stepped foot in the house. Y/N had been vocal about her disappointment in him not wearing his glasses, to which Harry had – not so jokingly – told her he’d go back to his and take his contacts out if it’d make her happy. She had told him to get a grip and they had strolled upstairs to her room to do uni work.

“That one’s beautiful.” Harry said after a while of the two of them staying quiet.

She looked at him, noticing him gesturing at her laptop where the symphony was being played. “Yeah.” Glancing back at her document, she changed the date on some of her resources to make it seem like she had worked on her essay for a longer period of time than she actually had.

“Started listening to Le Cygne some because of you.” Harry admitted. “The one you played for me in your dorm room.”

“I remember.” She smiled, looking over her shoulder at him. The stare was held like that for some seconds, both beaming and not wanting to be the first one to break away. When Harry had arrived earlier, he had brought her a bouquet of yellow roses as a subtle birthday present, she knew. Together, they had put them in a vase and put it by her window like the time before when he had brought her yellow roses as well. They were beautiful and radiant, reminding her of Harry, and she found herself looking over there every once in a while when working on her text. For some reason, while looking at Harry and being happy, Y/N got an idea. “Want to drink some wine?”

Harry blinked. “Want to what?”

“I’m practically done with my essay, I got a bottle of wine for my birthday, and I have another one hidden away somewhere in the kitchen downstairs.”

He smiled. “You want to get drunk?”

“Well, why not?”

“Just the two of us?”

“Why not?”

“In your bedroom?”

She cocked her head to the side, biting her bottom lip. “Doesn’t it sound like a dream?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Finish your essay first, darling, and we might.”

Y/N pouted as Harry switched his attention from her and down to his casebook and notebook before him on the bed. Getting out of her chair, she walked over to her bed, laying down next to him and squeezing herself under his arm till she laid with her head just underneath his. Glancing up at him, she saw he was laughing, grinning down at her.

“Pay attention to me.” Y/N mumbled, looking down at his lips and up at him again.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, rubbing his nose against hers. “No.”

“Why?”

“Finish your essay, and I’ll drink wine with you.”

“Oh, my days, Harry.” Y/N wiggled out from under him, annoyed at him not taking her up on her offer right away. “Why can’t you be stupid when I want you to be instead of all the other times?”

Harry laughed again, going back to his report. Silence settled over the two again as they worked separately. Music continued to play softly from her laptop, lulling her into deep concentration as she focused in on making all the small last finishes to her text. She walked downstairs to Teresa where she sat in her room working on the same essay to ask her a question, then back up again to continue writing. When she came back, she noticed Harry wasn’t there and quickly concluded he probably was at the loo. Not even a minute later, he came back with a bottle of wine in his hand and some of the Dairy Milk Buttons she kept in her cupboard in the kitchen. Harry sat down in her bed again, urging her to keep on writing and finish it before she talked to him again. She huffed but did as he said, knowing he was right. She heard him pack up his things and put them in his satchel before she focused in on her essay again. It took her some time – 30 minutes to be exact -, but Y/N handed in her text on Canvas and turned around to face Harry again. He was sitting against the headrest on his phone, looking up at her once she closed her laptop.

“Done.”

“That’s my girl.” Harry grinned, locking his phone. “Come play a drinking game with me, then, Miss Picot.”

Y/N giggled, bringing the other bottle of wine and sitting down opposite Harry in her bed. She noticed the way his eyes fell to her boobs, how the thin white crop top she was wearing left little to the imagination as she hadn’t bothered to put a bra on. She tried not to laugh.

“Right,” he opened his phone again, looking away from her. “I’m bringing Cheers out, what game do we wanna play?”

Y/N bit her lip, thinking a bit. “What would work best?”

“Most likely to?” Harry narrowed his eyes in question and she nodded her head. “Okay, first ques- Have you opened your wine bottle, ma’am?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not yet.”

“Well-“ Harry motioned for her to do it, and she did, just because she didn’t fancy him arguing with her to. “Right, first one: most likely to vomit first.”

“You.”

“Me?!”

“I never throw up.” Y/N grinned.

“Neither do I!”

Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Fine, I’ll take this one.” Harry grumbled, taking a swing of his white wine. “Most likely to go to a Britney Spears concert and buy a tee shirt- Me.” Harry took another swing, Y/N throwing her head back laughing at him.

“Want to see you wearing that tee shirt.” Y/N said, giggling still.

“Wouldn’t you?” Giving her a wink, Harry glanced back at his phone. “Have a sex doll under their bed.”

Before Y/N could say anything, Harry put the bottle on the nightstand and got out of bed. Confused, she watched as he laid down on the floor and snuffled his way under her bed.

“Your sip.”

With a hand on her tummy, Y/N laughed till everything hurt and Harry was back on the bed. While she came down from her laughing fit, Harry just watched with a smile on his face. He found her laughter so heavenly, like it was made up of what could closest resemble magic in this boring, mundane world. When she opened her eyes again to look back at him, there was something on Harry’s face she hadn’t seen before. He looked more than vulnerable; long passed defenceless, like what was right before him could break him into so many pieces it would be impossible to become the same person he was before. At the same time, what was right before him could right all the wrongs made in history of time and set fire to every bad thought. Both weak and the most powerful he had ever looked, Y/N thought.

“Next,” Harry said, looking back at his phone. “Have the highest phone bill. You.”

She didn’t bother arguing, so she just took a swing of the bottle and let Harry continue on.

“Enjoy rough sex the most.” He smirked, glancing up at her again. “Drink, darling.”

“Me? No, that’s got to be you.”

“You’re always the one asking me to go harder and faster.” He seemed quite satisfied with himself as he let his eyes fall to her bottle. “Drink.”

“Might be, but you love it when I do and give me double.”

“Fine,” Harry shrugged, still not able to help his smile. “Both drink.”

They did.

“Iron their underwear.” He pointed at Y/N, and once again, she drank without hesitation.

They continued like this. Harry saying a statement, and they either argued for a bit over certain ones or didn’t hesitate before taking a sip. Neither finished their bottle of wine, instead putting them on the nightstand when they got tipsy. It wasn’t that they wanted to get drunk, they just wanted to get giggly and be in each other’s company. Every time they did get drunk, they had to go out and be with their mates, and though that was nice, it was nicer being just the two of them. This way, they didn’t have to downplay just how needy they were for one another.

Y/N was sitting in the chair again, feet on her bed as Harry sat in the same position by the headrest. The music was still playing and for some reason, she couldn’t stop giggling. It was as if everything was funny, like no matter what Harry said or how she moved, it was funny. Harry had just sat there watching her for a bit now, studying her as she listened to the music. The silence between them was light, like it was meant to be there, and neither minded sitting in the company of the other and just being. Not having to say a single word, instead just exist alongside one another in the space of a quiet room.

“The camping trip,” Harry began, turning his phone on silent as Finn started blowing up his flat’s groupchat. “Given any thought to that and how many tents we might need.”

They had briefly touched in on it when they had texted over the last week, but they hadn’t discussed anything in detail. Y/N hadn’t given it much thought at all. She just knew it was at the end of the semester and everyone seemed eager to go.

“Do you think your father will let you go?” It was out of her mouth before she could so anything to stop herself.

Harry furrowed his brows, staring at her for a few second before, “I do what I want, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but Sai and Wade said your dad would give you a hard time going.” She explained a little too quickly.

“Maybe,” Harry mumbled. “But I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Sorry for bringing it up.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. They’re right.”

She frowned.

“He will give me a hard time when I ask, but I know how to handle him. I’ve done this kind of convincing before and I’m coming camping.” He gave her a faint smile. “But I brought up the tents for a reason.”

“We have enough of them at the farm, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No.” He sat forward, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. “Not why I brought it up, I assume you and your wilderness family have enough as it is.”

“We’re not savages.” Giggled Y/N, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’d say anyone who lives 30 minutes outside any big city is the equivalent of a savage. Who doesn’t want to live close to an actual shopping centre?”

She laughed. “Oh, my days. Are you bantering?”

“Do you have a mall in Hawkely?”

“Well, no-“

“-Then I’m not.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, a tinge of jokes in his voice. “Changes happen where hordes of people live. And I need new clothes and jewellery at least once a week, hence the need for a shopping centre.”

Y/N shook her head at him. “You should come live in Hawkley for a bit. Would bring you back down to earth.”

Harry smiled. “Anyway, the reason why I asked about the tents was because I was wondering about the sleeping arrangements.”

She leaned forward in her chair. “What about them?”

“How many two-person tents do you have?”

Those words went straight to Y/N’s heart and then to the lowest part of her tummy. “A couple.”

“So, if Tiana and Teresa share one, and Wade, Finn, and Sai share a bit of a bigger one,” a lopsided smile settled over his lips. “And we share one, you’d have enough tents for that?”

A tingle started from the roots of her hair and swayed its way all the way down to the tips of her toes. She nodded, seeing his smile earn a hint of mischief.

“Can’t wait to fuck you in that tent.”

No matter what, the rasp Harry got to his voice when he made dirty promises or filthy statements, Y/N always felt it in her entire body. As if her entire body went through the shock of an earthquake, only it didn’t leave destruction in its wake, only lust.

“We’d have to be quiet.”

“I don’t give a fuck if people hear us.” Harry said, licking his lips. “You know I don’t.”

“But I do.”

“You’re also the loudest.”

“Okay, maybe I am! But-“

“-Bloody come here, why are you so far away from me?” Harry smiled. Y/N knew he loved to get a rise out of her, because whenever he did, she never held back, and he loved it when that happened. Groaning, Y/N got out of her bed and crawled into bed. Harry petted the space beside him, but when she was about to settle in there, he took a hold of her hips and placed her on his lap instead. “Now this,” he said, helping her nestle both her legs on either side of his hips. “This is what I’m talking about.”

“And what are you talking about?”

“What?” Harry said, looking from her lips and into her eyes again. “Talking about you being far away from me and now you’re not.”

She just huffed. “Sure.”

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

Their lips met while they were both still smiling, not able to keep serious while they were bantering back and forth like that. She rested her hands at the back of his neck while his came to her ass, not being subtle at all about how needy he was for closeness. He pressed her to him, wanting her so tightly against him he would have problems breathing. With a little alcohol in the mix as well, they were all over each other within seconds. She grinded against his trousers, he bit at her bottom lip, she tugged at his hair, and he slid his hands under the band of her tights to squeeze her bare arse. They worked like clockwork, never taking each other off guard like they had done in the beginning, but now knowing exactly how the other one moved, reacted, and liked it. She tugged at his tee shirt, asking him for permission to remove it. Breaking the kiss for a single second as he did, Harry threw it away blindly while placing his hand at the back of her head and the other the top of her neck, thumb caressing her jawline.

“Love it when you take control.” He mumbled.

“Do you?” She squeezed her thighs against his hips, letting him feel her hot core.

“So sexy.” He licked at her bottom lip, eyes hooded when they both opened them to look at each other. “But I’m not letting you be in control today.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows, closing her eyes as he started kissing his way down her jawline and neck.

“Today I’m going to take my time.” He pushed her cardigan off her, throwing it to the floor, kissing his way around the tiny strap of her crop top. “Savour every last bit of you.”

She curled her hand in his har as he kissed along her collar bone, nibbling here and there. “And how are you going to do that while still being in control?”

Harry leaned back against the headrest, pulling her with him. He took her other hand, letting it trail up his thigh till he stopped at the very top of his trousers. Her fingers came into contact with something a tad colder than the rest of Harry’s body, and she instantly knew what it was.

“Like that.” He mumbled against her chest, leaving a wet kiss there before he moved his lips to her ear, “Take it off for me, darling.”

She unclasped it, feeling Harry bring his hands up and under her shirt, making their way to the front. His hands came to rest at her breasts, flicking his thumb over her nipple as she attached his chain completely from his belt hoops. She pressed her chest further into him, telling him she was impatient and wanted him to do more. Taking a firm hold of her back and bum, Harry held her to him as he flipped them around. Back against the mattress and Harry on top, stroking himself against her centre. He slid his hands up her tummy, her crop top rising as it rested against his wrists, fingers spread out to feel all of her underneath him. Noses touching and eyes locked, Harry dared her to watch him as he knead her boobs. Pinching her nipple between his index and ring finger, he watched her gasp. It sent a shock of sharp heat straight down to her centre, wetness already starting to form for him.

He left a lingering kiss against her lips before taking the tank top off her, throwing it somewhere that wasn’t the bed. Taking the chain from her hand, he twisted it around one of her wrists, and then the other.

“Is that too tight?” He asked, voice filled with a tad bit of worry that he had made her uncomfortable. “You’re okay with it?”

She nodded.

“And you’re okay with me tying you up?”

“Would’ve told you if I wasn’t.”

He smiled, bringing both her hands down to him. He moved the chain from around her wrists and left a kiss there, keeping his eyes locked with her as he did so. Right above where her pulse beat, his lips left a permanent kiss there it felt like. Even as the cold chain wrapped itself around both of them again, she still felt Harry’s kiss against her pulse.

He reached for her headrest, attaching the chain to it before he glanced down at her again.

“Alright? Comfortable?”

She nodded.

“Good,” grinning, he took a grip of her tights and underwear, dragging them both down her legs. “Because I’m not taking this sight for granted anytime soon.”

Clothing fell to the floor and Harry let out a heavy sigh as he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at Y/N laid down and naked before him. Crossing his arms, he rested his right elbow in his left hand as he covered his mouth while studying her. Eyes slid from her tied up wrists and all the way down her body, taking in every single detail of her. Though Y/N loved it when he looked at her, this was a whole other level. He didn’t hold back now, wasn’t ashamed to just stare at her till doing anything else felt foreign. He turned her chair, sitting down in it and leaning both his elbows on his knees, and then his face in his hands, the smallest smile on his lips as he continued to look at her.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

He cocked his head to the side, not able to take his eyes off of her.

“Stop!” She laughed, feeling her entire body flush with embarrassment as she laid there naked before him, unable to do anything but let him stare at her. She rested her foot against the mattress, closing her legs and not giving him a look at the goodies unless he came up close.

“You’re just so bloody irresistible.” He said before he got up, getting the chocolate buttons from her nightstand and then walking back to the edge of the bed. He took his trousers and socks off before he opened the pack, grinning up at her. “Lay still. If one falls off I’ll bite, not lick them off.”

She watched as she placed a line of chocolate buttons up her right leg, hip, right above her centre, navel, all the way up her tummy, and then both her boobs.

“When you don’t have whipped cream and your darling doesn’t like strawberries, you have to get creative.” Harry said, grinning big as he positioned himself at the edge of the bed again. “Now, don’t move.”

She wasn’t able to answer him, too in absolute shock at what the two of them were doing. Hypnotised, she watched as he lowered himself, gliding his tongue over the bridge of her foot till he caught the chocolate. She bit her lip, the spot where his tongue licked against her skin where all her attention was focused. He moved up her leg, catching two buttons along her calf, one on her knee and three up her thigh. Taking his time now that he was all the way up her leg, Y/N felt him kiss her thigh before he pulled way, leaving a sloppy, lingering peck that made her cunt ache for him. He watched her intently as he continued on his journey, slowly licking one off her groin. She let out a long sigh, imagining what it would feel like if he had licked her pussy the same way. He continued, licking just above where she desperately needed him.

She moaned, the exact way she knew always drove Harry insane.

“Don’t move.” He mumbled, kissing the spot he had just licked. “Don’t want to get chocolate down there so I’m not going down on you.”

“Then bloody rinse your mouth and get on with it.”

Harry laughed, answering by licking the next button on his way up her tummy. She felt his hand on the inside of her thigh, sliding slowly up till it rested at her centre. Licking a button up from the middle of her tummy, Harry startled her by slipping a finger in between her folds, gliding it among her wetness.

“Harry.”

“Don’t move.”

He licked another one between her breasts, making sure he had her full attention as he slipped his fingers slowly inside her. She clamped her knees into his hip, moaning again. Hovering over her nipple, he licked it hard and slow, moving his finger with his tongue. Sliding it hard and slowly against the roof of her. He sucked on her nipple, circling his thumb slowly over her clit as he did so.

“Fuck.” She breathed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against her pillows.

Doing the same for her other nipple, Harry slid his finger quicker in and out of her as he sucked, moving his thumb to the same rhythm and harder this time around. This she felt was the effect of her saying ‘fuck’; a word she only reserved for the bedroom and to drive Harry so mad he couldn’t think straight. Feeling him against the inside of her thigh as he hovered over her still, sucking and nibbling and kissing her breast. Just above her nipple, Harry started sucking extra hard, and she knew what she was doing. His finger moved slower again, only to come back with one hard thrust every once in a while as Harry sucked and sucked and sucked on her tits.

“Harry, please.”

“What?” He said, slipping another finger in. “Not enough with only my fingers?”

“No.” She gasped.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed as he slid his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth while making sure she was watching him. “Let’s see what we can do about that, yeah?”

She watched him as he took his boxers off, biting her lip at the sight of his cock sticking out in the air between us. He reached for her nightstand where he had left a few condoms last time he visited, ripping one open and slipping it on.

“Don’t be too loud.” She told him as he nestled in between her legs again, her legs bent and hands sliding from her knees and down her thighs.

“I’m never loud.”

“Shut it, you’re loud as well.”

“You’re the problem here, darling.” Harry smirked. “No, I take that back. I love you being loud. That you’re not able to help yourself.”

She giggled.

“The only problem here is you being embarrassed of being loud.”

“I just don’t want Teresa to hear us and be awkward afterwards.”

“Tiana?” Harry frowned a little.

“Home in Bath for the weekend, but I just don’t want to-“

“-Teresa won’t care. If anything, she’s going to be happy for you, and you know it.” Harry tugged at her hips. “Are we done with this discussion now? Can we fuck and not care about anyone but ourselves?”

She giggled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Harry grinned. “Right, keep your knees bent like this, darling, yeah? Lift up.”

She furrowed her brows, but did as he said, shoulders keeping her up.

“You see, I want to go deep.” He muttered, kissing the inside of her thigh as she stood before him. “And like this I’ll be able to.”

He stood on his knees, slowly pushing into her as he leaned above her and forward. She bit her lip, groaning as he filled her up so familiarly. With one hand on the mattress and the other one snaking around her waist, Harry held her to him.

“You alright like that?” He asked again, eyes on her wrists and then down on her face again.

“Just fuck me already.”

Harry giggled, not needing to be told twice. He slammed into her, the chain rattling against the metal of the headboard. Gasping again, Y/N strained to keep her eyes open as Harry pounded into her, the loud slapping of skin against skin echoing through the room. Somewhere far away, symphonies were still playing from Y/N’s laptop, slow and soft against the rough and hard movements of Harry’s hips. Like Harry had told her multiple times, about not caring if anyone heard, she knew right away that it would be impossible for Teresa to not hear them anyway. The chain was making enough noise as it was, and it didn’t help that it was to the same rhythm as the loud slapping of skin.

“Yes.” Y/N moaned, glancing up at Harry. The right side of his lips tipped up, but it quickly disappeared as he focused on rocking in and out of her instead.

She smiled at him, suddenly noticing how numb yet incredibly sensitive her tits were. They were covered in love bites, and red marks from his nibbles and wet kisses. She loved the sight, like another reminder of how possessive Harry actually was. He never really showed it when they were around people – then again, the two rarely showed any particular interest in each other around their friends – so seeing this side of him when it was just the two of them excited her. It was so clear that he loved knowing she was his; loved reminding her that he was the only one for her. When he left these marks that stayed for days after, making loads so she’d see them all and know. It wasn’t like him to half-ass something, and it just went to show when he left marks on her. She wanted her to remember how intimate the two of them had been, and didn’t want her to forget anytime soon.

“Oh, my God.” Harry mumbled, letting a low growl leave his lips as he looked down at the place the two joined.

“Don’t stop.” Y/N said, closing her eyes as she felt the fire in her core grow bigger and bigger with each thrust.

Harry moaned, looking at her again, eyes automatically falling to her bruised tits. They stayed there, taking in how they bounced and, no doubt, taking endless amounts of mental images. Y/N didn’t mind, though. She liked the thought of Harry thinking about her long after they had separated, like she thought of him. Reliving moments like this over and over again till she felt her entire body aching for him. Dreaming of him and waking up sweating or gasping for air. Smelling him on some of her clothes and going straight back to the time they had spent together. It was impossible not to constantly think about him. He was her everyday now; her spare time and dreamy nights.

They changed positions. Her legs against his torso and on either side of his head, holding her legs in place and himself up as he fucked her even better now. More than once, she forgot she was wearing his chain around her wrists, so when she went to touch him, the chain would tighten around her and her hands would fall back against the bed. Regardless, she was very much enjoying Harry sweating above her, doing the most for her to feel amazing.

“Like that?” He would whisper, as he always did, and she would choke out a “Yes” in between thrusts and the filthy wet sounds the two were making together.

He was so deep inside her and it didn’t take long for either to come. Y/N came first, gasping and moaning and clinging to the chain till she felt her hands go numb. Harry came when she was on her way down, groaning as he looked down at her, eyes hooded as hair sticking to his forehead. They stayed just looking at each other till their hearts were done beating in their ears and till neither were panting hard anymore. Harry took the condom off, cleaned Y/N up, and freed her from the chain.

“Should use this again, yeah?” Harry grinned. “Me next time.”

She giggled, putting on a large tee shirt and laying down in bed again. Harry got his boxers on and the wo just laid in bed talking for hours. Y/N found herself thinking about the following year. As Harry gestured with his hands and she saw his tattoo, reminding her once again of his passion and everything he wanted to do with his life. How it was a dream of his to move to Brussels, and how he might be able to live there for a year. She felt selfish for not wanting him to go. She wanted him to stay in London with her forever. And that was another thing; would they be forever? They weren’t even a couple. Since they had briefly discussed it in the bathroom of that party over a month ago, it hadn’t been brought up again. As he talked away, she just looked at him, thinking about everything and everything they weren’t. Despite herself, she knew she was more in love with Harry than she had ever been with anyone else and ever would. That scared her, especially since there was no telling what the future brought.

“You’re looking at me.” Harry said.

“Isn’t it polite to look at someone while they’re talking?”

Harry grinned. “Maybe. But you’re looking at me like I’m going somewhere.”

She couldn’t bring herself to talk.

He rolled onto his stomach, hovering his lips over hers. “I’m not. I’m staying right here.”

Smiling, she nodded.

Thursday, 24 March 2016

Y/N put her violin case down on her floor and sat down by her desk. She had just come back from playing the violin bit for Wynter’s Final Project in the studio, and because she had concentrated for three hours straight now, she was exhausted. But she couldn’t be exhausted. She couldn’t be tired now, because being in that studio with Wynter, Y/N was reminded that she needed to start thinking about her own project. She felt her leg begin to shake with the nerves of it all.

As much as she loved making music, it was always hard to make her own. Finding the perfect balance, rhythm and notes was difficult, even though she had played thousands of songs in her lifetime, she always found it challenging to think of her own. Staring at a blank page before her, she was once again reminded of how long it took her to compose something. No notes, no pace, no nothing entered her brain to get her creativity flowing. It was like entering a once welcoming, lavish, and warm house, to now enter a vacant, dark, and cold one looking eerily similar. Y/N fumbled through the dark of the house, running her hands over the walls that had one time long ago been painted in stunning colours, but were now hidden away from the human eye in the darkness of an abandoned space. She continued on, walking up the stairs and trying to find the once familiar paintings hung on the wall along the staircase, but found none. A light could be seen at the top of the stairs. She walked a little quicker.

She glanced over her desk, eyes suddenly landing on a leather notebook. Reaching over, she suddenly felt that haunted house inside her head flood with light and warmth and laughter again. She opened the notebook, seeing the symphonies, solos, and sonatas she had written down in it shine back at her like hope often did when the world was dark around you. Opening her laptop, she quickly started playing each and every song that reminded her of Harry. As she listened to each of them, closing her eyes and disappearing from the world she was living in for a few minutes, something started taking shape. A slow and romantic symphony filled with trumpets, cellos, harps, a piano, flutes, bassoons, trombones, and, of course, violins. The violin would lead the whole song on, play the passionate melody her heart played every time she was around Harry. Looking through all the different tunes that had inspired her and that would inspire her; all the tunes that reminded her of someone that made her feel at ease and that held her heart, soul, and life in his hands, Y/N suddenly felt calm.

She could do this. She heard her Independent Project playing inside her head. Felt the notes drop from her fingertips and onto the paper before her. She wrote as quickly as she could, knowing that she needed to do so to remember it. Almost knocking her chair over in an attempt to get to her violin again, she threw the case open and got her baby out. She sat down by her desk, looking down at the notes she had just written down. The slow song she had heard only minutes prior was exchanged with a quick melody to resemble her heart every time Harry was near. When she finished, she could hear the next part of the score, so she found her pen and wrote it down. She tried different notes to see which one fit best, writing down the ones that did, and then proceeded to play the first part of piece. Not wanting to push it, she stopped there, but continued to perfect the little she had come up with already.

It was a long time since she had been hit by such a rush of creativity, and it felt so good to finally be producing something. Taking a deep breath, Y/N smiled to herself as she looked down at the paper, her fingerprints left in some of the notes from writing too fast, and other lines blurred from accidentally dragging her hand over the paper. But she understood what it said; what this meant.

Her eyes fell to the book beside it, a page open with a symphony that reminded her of Harry written down on it. Yet another smile took over her facial features, and she turned all the pages over, looking at each and every song that had inspired this piece she had just written. Running her fingers over all the pages, she let each word of reason for why all of these reminded her of Harry, soak into her once more. Ending up at the first page, she smiled at the yellow and green letters that made out the name she had given the book those months ago. The piece she had just written played in her head as her index followed each and every letter on that page. She smiled, biting her lip and finally feeling hopeful as she reached the end of the three words that helped her when she was in need. Symphonies of you, it said, and Y/N repeated the three words before closing the notebook, and playing the piece again.

FIC PAGE | COME TALK TO ME!

TAGLIST:

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[dibs4ever]

Mixed Feelings

A multi TimSteph fanfic by request from @dc-comics-gal

Stephanie stared at the test in front of her. This is what they wanted right? She felt tears welling in her eyes she quickly whipped them. They weren’t tears of joy, they weren’t tears of disappointment either. Honestly, she didn’t know what they were. Then she got a flashback to when she was a teenager

15-year-old Stephanie Brown sat on the toilet staring at the test. Two pink lines. This couldn’t be happening, she was in high school, her dad was in jail, her mom worked constantly, she had just broken up with her jerk older boyfriend who moved to another town. Worst of all she was just starting to gain Batman’s trust. Now what? Sure she had many options but which one was right for her. She jumped when her phone made a loud noise as it vibrated on the marble countertop, she picked it up looking at the text

Tim: Hey where are you? I’ve been waiting on this rooftop for 15 minutes.

She smiled to herself. Tim- He was so sweet and caring and cute. Not to mention he was smart. He was the complete opposite of any guy she had ever dated. Which is why she was surprised when she realized she had a crush on him. But who wouldn’t with that rocking body. Sometimes she felt like he might like her too, but he was dating Cassie so that kinda put a stop to any romancing, which she respected. Besides Tim wouldn’t want her now anyways. She texted him back

I’m not feeling great, think I’ll skip patrol tonight.

A second later her phone vibrated again

Tim: Okay, feel better. Maybe if I get a chance I’ll stop by and check in

Fast forward 13 years and here she was again with a pregnancy test in hand. Except this one was different. This time it was Tim’s, this time they were married and had been for a year. This time the baby was planned.

Looking at the time she realized Tim would be home from his day job at Wayne Enterprise in 15 minutes. How would she tell him? Should she just come out and say it, or think of a cute Pinterest way?”

Stephanie shook her head “If I did the Pinterest way he’d try to break everything down to a science, I’ll just tell him” she said to herself before standing.

Tim arrived home not much later “Hey Steph I’m home.” He shrugged off his winter coat hanging it in the coat closet.

She stayed in the kitchen where she continued to prepare dinner. If she rushed to the door he’d know something was up

“Hey, it smells great in here.” Tim smiles stepping into the kitchen he wrapped his arms around her waist “What’s cooking good looking?” He kissed her cheek

“Chicken noodle soup” she turned giving him a hot spoonful

“Mmmm Alfred’s recipe” he grinned

Stephanie nodded “Is there any other way?”

Tim chuckled “If there is it's wrong”

Stephanie nodded in agreement “How was your day?” She asked moving the soup off the stove then turning to look at him again

Tim shrugged “It was work, doing accounting work for Wayne enterprises is a lot more fun with you there as my secretary” he pointed

Stephanie nodded “I was bored today”

He smiled “Well you were throwing up quite a bit this morning, I think staying home was a good call.”

Stephanie tapped her nails against the countertop “Yeah about that. I ummm I took a test today.” She said slowly

Tim rose an eyebrow “A test? What kinda test? Like Batwork test. Did you hack a database without me”

Stephanie laughed “Of course not, I took a pregnancy test,” she said softly

Tim’s eyes widened “And?”

Stephanie pulled the test out of her back pocket handing it to him

She watched as he examined it, his eyebrows furrowed

“This is positive” he pointed

Stephenie nodded

“You’re our having a baby? We’re having a baby the smile on his face grew “I’m going to be a dad. This is-“

He stopped when he noticed Stephanie’s emotionless expression “Are you okay- with this? I mean this what you want right? If you don’t I mean you can do what you have to do, I just figured since we’ve been trying the last 3 months and all that-“

Stephanie pressed a finger to his lips “Of course I want this Stud” she grinned

Tim smiled “Good cause I do too.”

They gave each other a quick kiss on the lips “Next thing is telling our family.”

Stephanie nodded “I say we see Lee or Dinah first then from there we will make plans.”

Tim nodded “Well thanksgiving just passed. What if we tell them on Christmas. When we are all together “

A small smile formed on her face “I like that idea”

——————————————————-

A week later Dinah informed her that she was approximately 5 weeks along. She recommended that she stop patrolling at the 8-week mark which was almost perfect timing for telling the family. She said that so far everything looked great. Tim was so happy, she had never seen him so happy. She was happy too, it’s just there was—-something bothering her.

Before they knew it Christmas was only one day away. She and Tim say in the living room as the finished wrapping presents.

“You think Nathan is going to like his new bo staff?” Tim asked as he wrapped the gift

Stephanie smiled “He’s Dick’s son and Robin. I’m sure he’ll love it”

Tim nodded “Yeah well he’s also going to be 13 soon. He’s getting to an age where he’s going to start wanting to be his own person”

Stephanie nodded “Not going to argue with you there. Then again Leah is 9 and we’ve never known what to get her”

Tim smiled “I can’t believe our family is going to know tomorrow “

Stephanie smiled “There hasn’t been a new kid in your family for 9 years.”

Tim nodded “I think everyone will be happy. At least I hope so”

——————————————————-

On Christmas, everyone sat around the 10-foot tree the last present seemingly had been unwrapped

“Well if everyone is finished I shall go grab the extra large trash bags and we can begin clearing the way,” Alfred said pushing himself up. Until Stephanie cut him off

“Actually Alfred Tim and I have a present we forgot to give you.”

Alfred smiled sitting back in his seat “Oh really? But you already gave me the new oven mitt set, which I live by the way”

Tim smiled “I think you’ll love this one even more” he handed the elderly man an envelope

The rest of the family looked on confused. Everyone was there, Cass, Jason, Damian, Bruce, Dick and Barbara along with their kids 12-year-old Nathan and 9-year-old Leah. Word was Selina would probably be by later as well. Alfred opened the card, you could tell he was slightly nervous since all eyes were on him

“Congrats you’re going to be a babysitter.” Alfred red the front of the card confused

Cass’ jaw dropped being the first to figure it out

Alfred smiled knowing what it meant as well but opened the card to read the rest “I mean a Great Grandpa -AGAIN!” Baby Drake due in July!”

“You guys are having a baby!” Barbara smiled reaching up from her chair and embracing Stephanie in a tight hug “Finally someone who will understand what it’s like to raise offspring of the Batboys” she joked

Stephanie laughed “Yeah I think I’m going to need all the advice I can get”

“Timmy! You’re going to be a dad.” Dick hugged his brother “You are going to love it, being a dad is a best especially when they are little and think you are the coolest person on earth” he nudged him

“I’m finally going to have cousins,” Nathan said happily

Leah smiled “You mean WE? I can’t wait”

Nathan looked at Stephanie “Even if this kid is a boy I’ll still be your favorite, right Aunt Steph?”

Stephanie smiled placing a hand on the boy's cheek “Of course, you’ll always be my precious angel” she laughed lightly

Then it was Jason who smacked Tim on the shoulder “Well Timbers I didn't know you had it in ya”

Tim smiled then looked at Bruce who had been observing everyone’s excitement “Well Bruce, what do you think?”

Bruce nodded “This is good news, I look forward to your child’s arrival. Congratulations Tim” he clasped Tim’s shoulder

Damian observed Stephanie

“What is it Dami?” She asked releasing

Leah from a hug

The 21-year-old tilted his head “How far along are you precisely”

Stephanie smiled “I’ll be 9 weeks in 2 days” she ran her hand along her still flat belly

Damian nodded “When will you begin to show?”

Stephanie shrugged “I’m still pretty early so this is relatively normal, considering how physically active I used to be. But everyone is different so who knows”

Damian nodded “But weren’t you pregnant before as a teen”

The room became quiet

“Damian, “ Dick said narrowly

Damian rolled his eyes “I am not a child anymore Grayson, I’m just asking a simple question “

Tim stepped forward putting an arm around Stephanie “Yeah but kinda a subject we’ve been trying to ignore”

Stephanie shook her head “Guys it’s fine he’s right” he was right but it wasn’t fine. Truthfully the whole pregnancy so far was bringing up flashbacks from things that she had hurried long ago. Perhaps that’s what had been wrong with her these past couple weeks. She wanted to be mad at Damian for saying what he said but she couldn’t. She really was excited for this baby, and he didn’t necessarily ask anything wrong. She thought she was over her first child’s adoption, why was she suddenly not?

[tarot-tatas]

A Time Like This

Read it on AO3

Look,

I'm on a study break and it's my own shark week. This shit hurts and my gf isn't here to comfort me because that's what I turn into when this happens - a whiny piss baby who needs princess time and cries about everything.

Makoto woke up on a Monday morning at her usual time of 6am. Criminals wouldn’t stop themselves, after all. 

She sat up, stretched and rubbed her eyes, expecting to see a familiar lump next to her in the bed. Normally, the lump would be stationary, probably snoring, but today wasn't the case. The lump was there, no doubt, but it was wriggling slowly. "Ann?" Makoto leaned over and gently pulled back the bed sheet with two fingers, expecting to see the calm sleeping face of her girlfriend. But she saw discomfort and pain instead. "Makoo~" Ann whined softly with her eyes shut and hands wrapped around herself. Makoto's blood turned cold and her heart dropped, going 'splat' into her stomach. "A-Ann, love, what's wrong?" Makoto asked gently, moving a blonde strand of hair away from her lover's face while knowing the answer to her question already.

Ann opened her eyes, watery and blue, and gazed at Makoto as if she was about to have the living daylights beaten out of her. "It's my time." Makoto's face whitened as moved closer to place a soft kiss on Ann's temple. "I'm sorry about that, will you call in sick from work?" Ann nodded and reached around to take Makoto's Buchimaru-kun pillow to hug tightly. "Do you want me to tell the others that you can't make it to lunch?" Makoto softened her voice more and stroked Ann's cheek with the back of her fingers. "Mmm...yes pwease..." Ann's weak reply instantly put Makoto on edge. The calm before the storm. "Would...would you like anything else?" Makoto was very careful with her words, knowing how easy it was for anyone to swing moods during a time like this. "Ice cream..." Makoto furrowed her brow and scratched the back of her head, feeling the little knots that had formed during her sleep. "It's a bit early for that, plus we both know that green tea is better to have that ice cream during th-" Ann's head snapped back to look at Makoto with a deadly glare. Makoto gulped, "Ann, you'll feel a lot better when you have tea - you know this." The blonde puffed out her cheeks and pulled the entire bed sheets to herself, leaving Makoto exposed in her Buchimaru-Kun pyjamas. "Ann," Makoto sighed and moved closer, but a hand struck out and jabbed Makoto by the cheek away. Ann huffed and curled up like a hedgehog, and Makoto sighed, swinging her legs off the bed. "Ann, please listen to me." Another huff. Makoto sat up and got dressed. "Would you like an appointment with Dr. Takemi?" Another huff. "Well what is it you want?" Makoto herself huffed at Ann while throwing open her cupboard door and pulling out her uniform. It was already 6:25am. "I can't understand huffs," she added, and was only met by a throaty groan. "You're a dog now?" Another short groan. Makoto rested her head against the mirror inside her cupboard. Shutting her eyes, she counted back from five to one. "Ann, I need to go to work. Is there anything you want while I am out?" "Ice cream," a proper mumble of a response. Makoto threw on her blue shirt and buttoned it up to the top. "There's ice cream in the fridge that you want to eat already, so I can't bring anymore home." Ann shot up and gave Makoto another scowl. "Why are you such a bitch?!" She snapped, her hands gripping the covers so tightly her knuckles were lightening in colour. "I'm not! You want ice cream, as silly as that is, and it's already in the fridge for you!" Ann threw the Buchimaru-kun pillow at Makoto with all the force her cramping body could muster. Makoto managed to block the aerodynamic panda just in time to hear an ungodly screech from her girlfriend. "Get out! I hate you!" "No you don't, you hate the pain," Makoto rolled her eyes and chucked the pillow back onto the bed before proceeding to finish getting dressed. "There's food in the fridge, take some tablets, I'll visit Takemi and get more painkillers too," Makoto looked over at the calender in their room and noticed the big red 'X' in red on the current date, then saw the black 'X' right under it to signal that she was due next week. "I'll get the rest of myself ready at the station, I'm running late," Makoto blew a kiss to the gremlin monster in the bed and picked up her biker jacket from the rack behind the door. She left the room and heard a scream and dodged the same Buchimaru-Kun pillow that shot out after her. "I'm a fucking hormonal princess! LOVE ME!" 

"Geez, you look like you've been fighting shadows," Ryuji smirked as Makoto took off her helmet and look at him with lifeless eyes. "It's Ann," she let out an exasperated sigh and dismounted her bike. The police station was right next to the café Haru owned and ran, and her boyfriend was sitting out the front with a cold drink on the table. "Good morning Mako-chan!" Haru came outside with a takeaway cup of coffee for Makoto, having known the police commissioner for a number years and her regular order. "Morning Haru, and thanks," Makoto gave a tired smile and took the coffee from Haru. "Ann's going through a tough time," she explained with an eyebrow raise towards Haru as an indication it was THAT time. "Oooh, I see," Haru nodded in understanding and touched her own stomach. "Lucky mine just finished. You would think after all of us being friends for so long that we would all sync up." "Yeah, that's true," Makoto chuckled and took a long sip of the coffee. Ryuji looked between his girlfriend and friend, confused and furrow browed. "Ya lost me." "It's a certain thing that we have because we have certain parts, darling," Haru patted his shoulder gently.

It took the blonde a minute, then the lightbulb switched on. "Oh it's the thing where you get me to hide the knives once a month!" He blurted out, which made Makoto blink in shock at Haru. "I'm...not even going to ask," Makoto was lost for words. "Don't," Ryuji warned then winked at Haru. Makoto's phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and saw an image from Ann...in her hoodie with the hood up, a scowl on her face and flipping the bird. Underneath was a message:

Ann: Bring home chocolate or sleep somewhere else "Did Ann-chan just start?" Haru asked Makoto, who let out a groan. Ann was wearing the 'emotions hoodie.' "Today, she's probably eating ice cream right now, seeing as that's what she wants." "Tea is normally better for us," Haru mused out loud and Makoto winced. "I always suggest tea and she throws a fit. You'd think by now I'm used to what she's like during menstruation," Makoto rubbed her eyes. "So I take it Ann ain't join' us for lunch then," Ryuji rocked on the back legs of his chair. "No way, unless you want to get pillows thrown at you," Makoto hung her head and turned on her heel. "I need to start work, see you guys later."

With her emotions hoodie on, Ann was curled up on the couch of the apartment she owned with Makoto. On the tv was a re-run of an old anime from the nineties. In Ann's lap was a tub of ice cream and next to her was a pile of painkillers. "I bet Sailor Moon didn't have cramps," she muttered, scooping up a dollop of ice cream and shoving it into her mouth. She had calmed down from the morning and was now just in a slump, and felt bad for yelling at Makoto out of the sheer pain that felt like someone swinging a sledgehammer against her ovaries. With a sigh, she picked up her phone and went into her messages and found the thread for her and Makoto. She typed out a quick message: Ann: Sorry bout this morning I didnt mean any of it, i love you <3

She sent it off and curled even tighter into a ball, knowing Makoto wouldn't look at her phone until she was on a break.

"I sure am glad I don't suffer from that monstrosity," Yusuke crossed his long arms and flicked his hair back. "Then why do you act like it half the time?" Akira asked, not missing a beat and not looking up from his phone. Yusuke could only look dumbfounded as Ryuji burst out into laughter with Morgana and Haru giggled with her hand over her mouth. Makoto was not paying attention, but reading the text Ann had sent her earlier in the day. She tapped out a response slowly, not knowing if Ann's mood had swung since the time the text was sent. Makoto: Its okay, I know. I love you too. A minute later, the phone vibrated again and Makoto looked at the screen. Ann: Can you please get the stronger meds? Makoto: Sure, did you want anything else, your majesty?

Ann: Crepes with chocolate and chocolate ice cream and pocky and chocolate mochi and chocolate cake and-

Makoto pocketed her phone and returned to the conversation, which was to no surprise still questioning Yusuke's very existence.

Ann opened the freezer and pouted at the the diminishing ice cream. She opened the fridge next and peered inside, finding a white chocolate mousse inside. "This will do," she sighed and pulled her victim from the fridge. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Setting aside the mousse and retrieving her phone, Ann opened the group chat thread and smiled at the picture of Yusuke looking shocked about something. Ann: Lmaooooo hahaha

She typed back a response and dug into her mousse, shutting her eyes tightly to ignore the bear trap that was just let off in her stomach.

"...Menstrual cycle, huh?" Makoto scowled at Takemi from across the examination. "Yes." "And yours is next week," Takemi didn't even look up from the boxes she was putting stickers on. Makoto flushed bright red and cross her arms and legs. "M-Mind your own business! You don't even know for sure!" Makoto squeaked and curled into herself as Takemi smirked. "I know because you're in sync with your sister," she handed the box of painkillers out to the younger Niijima, enjoying the frown on her face. Makoto pulled out her wallet and slapped the yen down on the table. "Keep the change, tell sis I said hi and to not share that stuff," she grumbled and left the room, a smirking Takemi watching her as she did so. "She didn't share it, kid. I'm a doctor."

Makoto turned the key to the apartment and entered. The lights were off, save the television playing. On the couch was Ann, half on her back half on her side fast asleep with her mouth open. Her hoodie was still up, so Makoto gently closed the door behind her and crept over the kitchen to set down the plastic bags and the takeaway on the counter. She took a deep breath, and gently approached the sleeping Ann and sat beside her. "Ann," Makoto let a finger trail along from Ann's shoulder to her arm. The blonde stirred and slowly opened her unfocused eyes. "...Mako..." "That's me, the bitch you hate," Makoto smiled pressed a kiss to Ann's head. Instantly, Ann curled up and groaned, "I...don't hate you..." "I know you don't," Makoto rubbed Ann's back in slow circular motions. "You hate the pain, and you're allowed to." "...It sucks," Ann sat up slowly and shook the hair out of her face. "I'm fucking gay I don't deserve this." Makoto chuckled and brought Ann into a hug. She let Ann rest against her and continued to rub her back and arm. "You don't, honey. You really don't." Ann let out a soft hum and relaxed even more, still wincing at the pain. "I got the pain killers for you, and brought home some takeout and a hot chocolate," Makoto said softly, and Ann lifted her head to look directly into brown eyes. "For me?" "For you," Makoto nudges Ann's nose gently, loving the dazed smile that came from the blonde. "You hormonal monster princess." Ann giggled and took down her hoodie to reveal matted twin-tails. She leaned in and gently kissed her girlfriend on the lips. Makoto tasted chocolate, and only chocolate, but at least it wasn't the taste of enemy blood. "Wanna eat on the couch?" Makoto mumbled against Ann's sweet lips. "Mhm," was the weak response. Ann spent the night in Makoto's lap with pad thai in her lap and the fluffiest hot chocolate ever on the coffee table in front of her. Makoto pampered her silly as they watched some strange game show featuring men say tongue-twisters or get their balls hit. "That," Ann said through a mouth of noodles. "That is what it's like." "I'll be sure to tell Yusuke," Makoto grinned.

~One Week Later~

Ann yawned and stretched, feeling better than ever. She had an early photoshoot out at the fishing pond. "Morning Mako," Ann rolled over to kiss her girlfriend, but got a groan in response. "Mako?" The blonde looked down and saw Makoto, thriving in pain with gritted teeth, clutching at her stomach. "Ann...Ann help..." The brunette hissed and whined, clinging to her Buchimaru-Kun pillow. Ann placed a hand to her cheek and sighed - it was her girlfriend's time. "Alright, what do you want babe?" Ann big spooned Makoto and rested her hands on the tight stomach. "Ice cream," was the response from the woman in pain. "Babe, it's 7am, you can't have ice cream for br-" "Shut up and get me dairy," Makoto snapped and curled up into a ball. Ann scowled and sat up again. "Fine, fine. I'm getting you green tea as well, it'll make you feel better." "Come back quickly, cancel everything I need you here," Makoto instantly whimpered and gave Ann a puppy dog pout. Ann put her hand on her hip and shook her head with a smile. "Sure thing, your majesty."

[chilly-territory]

Gangsta: Death of Anosmic Stray Dogs, chapter 5

A second chapter in a row that had my vision blur with tears from time to time. But this was the last chapter, only a short epilogue left now.

As previously, a big thanks goes to valgerdrgodiforseti for providing the original Japanese text.

Gangsta: Death of Anosmic Stray Dogs by Kawabata Junichi

Chapter 5 (pages 187-220)

When the patient from the second floor declared briefly that he wanted an early discharge from hospital, Theo didn't protest. "Don't come crying to me if you reopen your wound," was all he said. General treatment of Dario's wounds seemed to have been over though.

Nicolas who had Nina examine the leg wound Johann gave him stood up. Nina peered at him with worried eyes, but didn't say anything. Nicolas waved a hand at her and walked over to Worick, taking a spot by his side.

When they left the clinic, Worick dropped by the first bar he could find and bought a bottle of whiskey and 2 shot glasses. "We're not a tableware shop," the bartender grumbled, and Worick stuffed two bills into his breast pocket to placate him.

Next, the Benriya headed to the familiar back street garbage dump site. The stench it emitted was familiar as well, although weaker and thus more tolerable, probably due to yesterday's rain dampening the worst of it.

There was only one tattered couch in sight - the same one Johann collapsed on the other day. When Worick ran a checking finger over it, it didn't feel too unclean, so he sat down on it and lifted his gaze to look at his partner.

Said partner let out a big yawn, raised an eyebrow and surveyed their surroundings with disdain.

'Why a garbage dump? It stinks to high heaven here.' "We'd be the ones in trouble if we bothered neighbors and earned their anger." 'Having to wait is more troublesome. We could just fight near the clinic.' "And what if you wrecked its walls? We'd have to pay for repairing them. Besides, we can't involve Nina-chan in this." 'Hah,' Nicolas grimaced and produced a case with Celebrer. It still had quite a lot of its contents left, and Nicolas threw all of it into his mouth. The case, now empty, then got launched into a pile of trash.

That dose was clearly too much, but Worick didn't even try to lecture his partner for it.

It wasn't like he wasn't concerned. But a part of him found it very much agreeable every time Nicolas was being reckless, pushing himself too far like that, and not even Worick himself could quite make sense of those feelings. Right now, he would deal with that duality by making a small meaningless talk.

"It's promising to be an intense night." 'We're just taking care of a couple of strays, is all.' "But they're pretty capable strays." 'Thankfully.'

Nicolas lightly tapped the toe of his left foot on the ground a few times. His recovery rate may have been exceptionally high, but there was no way his injury could have already healed completely. At the very least, that timid Tag was strong enough to wound Nicolas, one of his own kind. The dose of the drug that his partner took might as well have been Nicolas giving due credit to the boy's ability.

That said, Worick wasn't worried.

"I'm counting on you, partner." 'Leave it to me, partner.'

Nicolas' eyes narrowed, becoming sharp. That expression could also be interpreted as a smile, with enough desire. Before long, Worick's ears, too, registered the sound of two sets of footsteps.

Dario made his grand entrance with a high held head, chest thrown out and hands in his pockets. Although he dragged his injured leg slightly, he didn't let the pain show on his face. Right behind him, like a shadow, Johann quietly walked.

Dario approached the couch, sitting down next to Worick.

"Well, ain't it a good couch, eh. Too good for throwing in garbage." "Yeah. And I got us some good booze to go with it." "That so. Then it's gonna be a good night. There's booze, there's gambling and there's a friend. Nothing else to wish for." "I'm jealous of how inexpensive your wishes are. I'm a little greedier, myself."

It had been long since for Worick the word dream had started to associate only with nightmares, and the word hope he would rather not hear or utter if he could help it. But still, he had yet to give up on the wish to see his tomorrow begin in peace.

Handing one of the shot glasses over to Dario, he held up a black bottle. Its glass surface reflected the distant city lights, dying them cheap darkish red. The city that was a big garbage dump itself seemed to shine so beautifully to the observer watching it from a real garbage dump. Old Parr was 12 years old. It was Worick's favorite, and Dario previously commented it was good, too.

Worick poured half a glass for both of them.

"Your treat?" "Yeah. I wanna make you memorize what good booze tastes like." "What, no ice?" "Don't you know? Shot glasses are special glasses for drinking good whiskey straight." "You sure know a lot." "It's just that you know nothing."

Heh, Dario snorted. Snatching the shot glass, he dipped a finger in it and licked the droplet off the tip.

"What are we toasting to?" "Whatever you want, I don't really care. It's not like we had any special cause before either." "No, tonight's circumstances are different. It's a big moment for my kid brother where he'll go wild for my sake. No any other cause can make a drink taste better." "I feel for Johann-chan's trouble. Better be careful not to get yourself too drunk and cause him even more trouble." "Being troubled over his big brother is the kid brother's job. Ah, right, let's do it this way then." Dario wasn't drunk yet, but his whole face lit up as he declared without a shred of embarrassment or competitiveness, "For our victory."

Worick's mouth curved a little. This man really lacked taste, painfully so. But pointing out every single instance was just too much trouble.

"Alright, we'll go with that, too."

The two glasses came in contact, knocking against each other lightly and producing jingling surprisingly clear for articles that cheap.

Only, the clanking of clashing blades that filled the space directly after drowned out that clear sound all too fast.

*

Nicolas couldn't suppress the smirk. Not that he tried in the first place.

Holding the tags hanging from his neck slightly up, he showed them to Johann. The ranking category etched on them read A/0 - the two characters that were synonymous with Grim Reaper for most.

'Did your big brother provide you with diapers?'

Johann didn't understand Nicolas' words and otherwise showed no signs of caring, as if he didn't understand the meaning of the characters on the tags the same way the rest of the world did.

He, too, held up his tags. They read B/1. A valuable rank considered high, but a whole ranking category below Nicolas'.

"A fight to death is no card game. And Ace is not always necessarily stronger," Johann said with a smile.

Nicolas read his lips but didn't reply. So long as he had a confirmation that the opponent was done with his preparations, no talk was needed anymore.

Johann quietly closed his eyes. The moment he did, it was as if even the scenery that Nicolas was seeing turned several shades darker. The dark-haired man raised his eyes to look at the sky, covered with heavy clouds. But he couldn't care less if it was. Star-gazing wasn't something that held any appeal to him.

On the edge of his vision, Worick and Dario clanged their glasses together.

It probably wasn't like it was the starting signal or anything, but Johann made a sweep with his hand, as if wanting to tear through the space. And he actually did. The blade of a throwing knife was fast approaching. By the time he consciously perceived it, Nicolas' body was already moving, his katana repelling the knife and sending it flying off course. Nicolas could tell that a blade meeting a blade produced a high-pitched metallic clang - he didn't hear that sound of pure murder but felt it with his skin.

'Not half-bad, eh.'

Ranking categories were an index assigned to Twilights by Normals for controlling and managing them. Like Johann said, they weren't a failproof indicator of real strength. It was just a number assigned based on one's results. If the outcome of any clash could be determined beyond any doubt just by looking at the opponents' ranks, all fights would be settled peacefully with just the display of tags. It would be incredibly boring.

'Don't go down too easily, okay? Let me have my fun.'

Nicolas broke into a run. The distance between him and Johann was 7 yards. Traversing it in the time it took to draw a quick breath, he brought down his high held katana. Like a greeting to a friend from the same town he had unexpectedly run into in a strange foreign land. The point of the sword tore Johann's oversized down coat on its descend, and the fluff went flying around. On the other side of the white cloud fluttering in the air, the young man smiled, as if he enjoyed the touch of bloodlust he had experienced a moment ago. The two of them were similar on a level much deeper than superficial classifiers like ranking categories, Nicolas confirmed and the thought made him grin back.

---Yeah, we're something totally different from humans, he pondered. Was it his self-derision talking? No. It was just the truth, simple as that. Twilights were kept by humans as pets, while keeping inside themselves a beast.

Johann shrugged off his down coat and tossed it aside. Throwing knives, combat knives, several handguns, wires, explosives - all kinds of items that were murderous intent given shape were wound around his slender body.

Yet, what drew eye about him was not them but his right arm. It was bony and covered in many wrinkles, like that of an old man. One glance was enough to know that it was the form his compensation took. There was no way that arm could muster any notable strength. Still stronger than a Normal's though, of course.

That right arm of an old man moved with speed that left Nicolas' perception ability wanting and made him wonder what it even was made of. The point of the combat knife enclosed, only 2 inches away from Nicolas' right eyeball. With the back of his katana's blade, he held it off. Instincts drove him to protect himself and to kill the enemy. Having his brain simply faithfully follow his instincts was enough.

Nicolas switched his grip, holding his katana with his left hand only, and grabbed the combat knife that his katana was currently keeping back, with his right. He cut his fingers a little when doing so but couldn't bring himself to care. When Nicolas twisted the combat knife in Johann's grip, the youth immediately let go of it, his body smoothly diving down like he tried to slip into a hole in the ground. By that moment, he had already drawn a gun with his left hand. Nicolas plunged the knife he had just snatched from the enemy into the gun's barrel. Johann pulled the trigger unfalteringly. Naturally, the gun misfired. Johann rolled across the ground, Nicolas chasing him. Neither knew where the bullet went. For the time being, it was only clear that it didn't hit either of them. The ruined gun tumbled down onto the concrete, blanketed with rubbish.

Nicolas was aware that his opponent had mastered quite a few weapons and for his part, he wanted to make the youth unleash all of them at him, to be exposed to every available type of murderous urge. He would smash all of them to pieces and only then bury his own blade in the guy's chest, that's what his wish was.

On the ground, there lay a car's left door thrown away for garbage by someone, and Johann bumped into it as he rolled, movement stopping, smoothly whipping out his still childish looking left arm and pointing it at Nicolas. Bloodlust this time took form of a needle fired from some crafty rig. With no way to dodge it, Nicolas had to let it sink into his left shoulder. Not letting it slow him down, the man tried to stomp on Johann, intending to crush him underfoot. Johann jumped low but long as if sliding, securing a position behind Nicolas. The older man promptly turned around as to not lose sight of him and the same instance sensed something coming from behind him. The car's door that Johann bumped into a few seconds ago was now flying at Nicolas. Johann must have pulled it with his wire. Catching it with his left hand, Nicolas threw it at Johann.

Johann deftly slipped through the hole gaping where the window's glass pane used to be, fast approaching Nicolas, swinging a second combat knife at him as he was. Aiming to hack the knife in two, Nicolas raised his katana high overhead before delivering a blow. As a result, contrary to his original plan, it was Johann who was put on the defensive, having to block the blade with his knife. Due to the kickback, he had to leap high into the air again to escape. Nicolas gave chase, jumping after him.

The youth was about to fire a needle from his left arm again. Striking his left shoulder with considerable force, Nicolas disturbed his aim and derailed the needle off its intended trajectory. He overtook Johann midair. Johann was holding a handgun. Eyes still closed, his lips were curved up in a smile. It wasn't even bloodthirst. Just genuine joy, like he was having a ball. Glad that the mad dog before him was smiling, Nicolas, spinning in midair, took a swing at him, asking the youth in his heart not to die on him just yet as he did.

Just as Nicolas had hoped, Johann deftly caught the older man's blade with the gun. Not firing it, he released his grip on it and launched a knife. But Nicolas had already seen through him. The gun Johann let go of was free-falling along with the two of them. Nicolas caught it and threw it at the knife headed for him. The gun grazed it, and that was enough to alter its path, sending it into the dark night sky fruitlessly.

When the two landed back on the filthy ground, they ended up about 7 yards apart again, facing each other, Johann with his eyes still closed, Nicolas pressing a hand to his damaged left shoulder and smirking ferociously.

His sneer not letting up in the least, Nicolas pulled out the needle that made a spot of red blossom out on his shoulder, with a violent jerk. Bending his finger, he then launched the needle into space, the tiny metallic stick hitting a steel plank the original shape of which was impossible to guess and falling to the ground harmlessly. Nicolas' five senses were clear. He could even feel with his skin the soft ching the needle produced upon the impact. This place was dirty, mixing garbage and blood together. The stench was awful but the place itself felt comfortable.

Johann opened his mouth - not to talk but to let loose a war cry.

---So you get it, too, don't ya, kid.

There was no need for words in a fight between beasts. Or for breaks, for that matter.

That's how a real fight between Twilights ought to be. If their twilight was soon to change into eternal night, they had only the now to play to their heart's content. You can still go on, right? 'Cause we're not nearly done here, yet. Show me your next way to kill.

The corners of the two's lips lifted up even higher, as they kicked the ground, looking positively like a pair of savage beasts.

*

Watching the two beasts that unleashed their instincts to play with each other with murderous innocence, Worick and Dario sipped Old Parr.

"How nice. They look like they're having fun," Dario commented.

Worick only nodded in reply. The necklace intended for women dug into his skin, making it itch, and he raised a hand to his neck.

---Was this what Sophia wanted? he contemplated, fingering the faint scars found there.

No, this couldn't be it. Except at the same time, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that this was one of the possibilities she foresaw. At the very least, she knew that Johann would come to this city, searching for her. And to her, the play to unfold then was not a happy one but a tragedy, through and through, Worick was sure.

Just as he thought this, Dario spoke up.

"Y'know, in the end, Johann just can't live without depending on his little sis."

Worick didn't believe that Dario could possibly be smart enough to see through him and surmise what he was thinking; the short man didn't even try in the first place. What he said just happened to echo the words floating in Worick's own mind, was all. There was nothing strange about it, Worick felt.

The blond Benriya poured more of Old Parr into Dario's shot glass. Dario accepted the bottle from him and took his turn to fill Worick's glass.

"You see," he continued cheerfully, "he probably didn't really understand why he even lives in this world. So he made his sister his one and only reason. Only so long as he lives for his sister that he can feel that he really lives, I think. That's why he's having fun right now."

Sophia had to be aware of that, too, Worick was convinced. She had to know that to Johann, she was his everything. That's why she had placed such a request with them at the very end.

---Hide me for 3 more years.

It was for Johann that she went to the trouble to ask that. Her beloved big brother was the person that she desperately wanted to hide her tattered body and her death from. Just like her own flesh, Johann's body wouldn't hold out much longer. 3 years should be enough, she must have estimated.

That's how she probably lived all her life since being little, taking it upon herself to give her brother whatever meager hope she could, and going even as far as to hide her own compensation from him. Desperately trying to preserve her brother's illusion and keep it pretty.

And that's why Johann was able to fight right now, throwing his life away for his little sister. That's why he was able to shed blood with a smile on his face.

Worick felt that a cheap necklace was a fair price for the request tasking the Benriya with protecting the kind lie of a little sister created for her big brother. On the other hand, he also felt that being saddled with arranging the conclusion of two lives was too heavy a burden to carry.

He lit up a Pall Mall.

"So what about you, personally?" "Huh?" "How well did you know Sophia?"

Dario scratched his head. "It ain't cool to talk about others' women. Praise her or diss her, nothing good'll come out of it either way."

Dario stuck a Garam between his lips. Worrick moved to light it with his Zippo. Sweet-smelling tendrils of smoke, spewn from the tip, started creeping about, spreading out.

Dario was a strange man. Resorting to cheap cliched descriptors, he could be characterized as unfathomable. There was no way he was smart enough to know everything, but just like his little brother said, evidently the man lived his life always being able to somehow determine the right option to take, if just narrowly. Perhaps, it could be said that rather than remember so many things, it was better to forget most of them. Yeah, that just might be it, Worick reflected.

Someone once said that having many talents was more dangerous than having none. Worick couldn't forget anything, and way too many women took a liking to his talent of sorts - his fine hair. How many things had he missed out on because of that? He wished he could say with conviction that all of those things were something unnecessary to him, but his only eye could not record and store something that it had not seen even once.

"You said you can tell the smell of misfortune." "Yeah, I sure can. That's how I lived my life." "Can you smell it now?" "Nope, none at all. Booze, smoke, blood and the godawful stench of garbage. That's all. The usual crappy peaceful odor." "I see."

It appeared that Dario really didn't feel a sliver of uneasiness or anxiety, being no different from how he was all the other times he and Worick drank together. Did he believe Johann would win? Or...

Worick had to smile at the thought. Giving the man more depth than there was was no use. He would only set himself up for something absurd and equally stupid if he did.

Dario took a drag out of his Garam, then took a sip of his Old Parr. Repeating the process a few times, he finally said, "Speaking of women, in the past, I drew a picture together with a gorgeous woman. It was an awesome picture, too, of a grinning dog." "I know. You drew it on the hood of your Fiat." "Don't remember where I drew it. How come you know though?" "I heard from you. Time and time again. And I even saw it." "That so. Anyways, she was one fine woman."

How does it feel to forget, Worick suddenly wanted to ask badly, but limited himself to only an ambiguous smile in the end.

He kinda liked Dario. If only they had met under different circumstances... but there was no use to think about those ifs. In this city, every and all meetings always spelt trouble.

Worick recalled Sophia again.

For his tastes, she was neither pretty nor charming. She put up a cool aloof facade, but it was only skin-deep as she dreamed like a little girl even when her body was falling apart; she talked like she believed in nothing, yet a little kindness was all it took for her to trust a man. She was the type of woman you could find everywhere dime a dozen. But at least, she knew her womanly ways. At parting, a true woman was to leave trouble after herself. And fulfilling the wish of a dying woman made on her deathbed was the worst kind of trouble of all.

Fulfilling that wish would be beyond his powers to begin with if he was on his own, Worick whispered in his heart. Exhaling smoke, he focused his gaze on the two locked in an intense battle.

Luckily, Sophia entrusted her entreaty not simply to Worick alone but to the Benriya as a whole. It required no romantic-flavored pity or kindness. She never sought those to begin with. All that was requested was to accurately fulfill the wish, in just moderation.

And if he was allowed to involve the both halves of the Benriya in this matter, then Worick had just the man he could trust above all and who always did a job so perfect that it was almost offensive.

For the man in question, too, having any sort of personal feelings towards the client was resolutely out of question. It was a job, and that was all the reason he needed to act. Said man didn't even harbor human-like sentiments towards Worick himself, the blond was sure, being a creature that followed a simple rule demanding him to obey his contract holder. And he was not happy or sad about it. Nicolas Brown truly was an ideal partner for Worick Arcangelo.

*

Raw pain felt pleasant, making Johann smile a big smile.

It took him back to when he was kept by Gummy. He didn't have a single good memory about that period, but it was then that he had learned to enjoy this. For Sophia, for Sophia, he kept repeating to himself while destroying everything in sight. Only when doing that Johann felt redeemed.

If there was salvation to be found anywhere in his dirt-filled life not much different from that of a starved stray dog groveling in the dirt of a garbage dump as it waited for its death to come, it lay only in those moments. In the moments when he could be free. That was the only time when hope was born, hope for his beloved little sister that gave him hope in turn.

Johann's eyes were closed. He didn't need his vision to fight.

For Johann, his sense of smell provided him with exceedingly more information than his vision ever could. Smells covered everything that needed to be covered, and he could detect where the enemy was hiding and what was happening behind, above and below him, from smells alone. Smells were what told him the level of his opponent's fatigue or how close to death they were.

The Twilight he was presently dealing with was a deviation from the norm. He was stronger than anyone Johann had ever met. His physique was by no means big, but his body was covered with thoroughly tempered muscle - heavy, tough and elastic. Being lighter, Johann won in speed. And thanks to diversity of his weapons, the ranged fight advantage was on his side as well. But his opponent had him beat in everything else. The youth couldn't hope to best him in power or experience or raw madness.

Johann could readily see himself crushed by the man facing him. It was disturbingly easy to imagine the man's katana take Johann's head clean off his shoulders and pierce deep into his chest.

In contrast, he couldn't picture himself win. Knives and bullets would simply get repelled. And even if some of them happened to hit their target, that powerful body wouldn't stop. Wire would be cut up, the hidden weapons would deal no more damage than a gentle breeze, and everything about him would be dismissed.

---Even so, the winner would be himself.

Johann knew the smell of blood, as well as the smell of killing. He had absolute faith in his nose. Additionally, he also had Dario on his side. The man was powerless, but picturing him die was even farther beyond Johann's imagination than conjuring such an image for the muscular Twilight before him. As long as Johann, with his ability to smell blood, was with Dario who could tell the scent of fortune and misfortune, they wouldn't lose to anyone, ever.

The terrifying smell of the terrifying Nicolas was getting closer. His sweat was infused with vitality. His left calf and left shoulder had the scent of blood on them. The wound on his leg definitely wasn't anything light, at that. The area was sweating profusely and had a heightened temperature. But the man didn't seem to be concerned about it in the slightest. The mass of muscle bounced, and the iron scent drew closer.

Johann pulled at the wire wound about his left arm. Damp stench of a musty wooden closet swollen with moisture hit Nicolas from the side. But apparently, the man could actually see the thin wire even in the dark of night. Carefully measuring out the applied power, Johann severed the wire. The crash happened right next to Johann's ear, but he paid it no heed, moving on to launch his next attack.

Leaping into his opponent's chest, he made a slash at the man's throat with his combat knife. Nicolas dived down at the same time, evading and making one wonder just what kind of insane reflexes he possessed. Except, being able to perceive even flexing of muscle, Johann knew he would. Letting go of the knife, he aimed a handgun clasped in his other hand down at the man's face. Shockingly enough, instead of pulling away, Nicolas willingly moved in even closer to the gun. With the hilt of his katana that he now was forced to hold almost flat against his body, he struck at the handgun. Johann pulled the trigger. From the gun’s barrel pointed downward a single round launched. The explosive bang hit them both from below.

He picked the wrong option. He knew it in his head. He shouldn't have fired. He was well aware that his aim was off, after all. Even if it was less than a second, his mistake wasted it in vain and gave his opponent an edge. If this man moved closer to the gun muzzle on purpose to make Johann slip up and buy himself that momentous opening, then he truly was a monster. A split second error in timing it - and he would have died on the spot with a bullet lodged right between his eyes. Was it his way of saying that he was deaf even to the footfall of Death's approach?

What came assaulting Johann in the fleeting second snatched from him was not the katana or the fist or even the sole of the man's boot. A forehead hard as rock crashed into Johann's nose, sending  a shower of sparks blossoming on the backdrop of his closed eyelids. To kill the momentum, Johann allowed himself to fall backwards. His head was thrown back, chin pointing towards the sky, but he knew that his knife was at his feet, bouncing on the concrete flooring. Grabbing its hilt in midair, he drove it up, intending to bury it in the neck in front of him from below.

The monster effortlessly blocked it with the base of his katana's handle. Johann sensed that the muscle in the man's both arm was swelling with even more power. Unable to resist, the knife got ripped out of Johann's hand, the hilt of the katana sinking into his cheekbone on the sheer momentum. Johann still had the gun gripped in his left hand. Not hesitating, he fired it pretty much point-blank. Nicolas reacted immediately, twisting away. The bullet still grazed his left side, but the wound wasn't fatal. Not even deep enough to call it serious. And the man still took a step forward, the smell of his blood getting heavier.

There was no way something like that could stop the monster, and to prove it, he brought his katana down on the fallen Johann laying on the ground. Still, Johann was able to roll away somehow, avoiding the blow, maybe because having to dodge the bullet earlier put the man off balance. Johann tried to use the momentum of his rolling escape to snatch the knife that got ripped out of his grip earlier, but it went without saying that Nicolas, with his both feet firmly planted on the ground, had all the advantage he could want.

Johann scattered a handful of iron tubes as he rolled across the ground. Those were an unstable imitation of hand grenade, but this time they worked the way they were supposed to, successfully detonating. Using the sound of explosion that hurt his ears as a cue, Johann sprang up back to his feet, firing his gun at random to give himself cover. For a split second, his sense of smell got overwhelmed and Johann lost the grasp on Nicolas' position. It wouldn't be strange if that moment became his last, but somehow he managed to stay alive through it as he picked up his knife.

Dario was clapping and rejoicing on the sidelines, the flashy blast uplifting his mood, perhaps.

Johann's sense of smell was back and, following the man's scent, he readied his knife, facing in the man's direction and feeling relieved inside.

---Yes, luck was on his side.

He was still alive even after such a violent clash with a monster. His body still moved. The tubes blew up closer to Johann then Nicolas, but it looked like Nicolas had suffered more damage from the rubble the explosion scattered than Johann. In the first place, the very fact that that defective junk detonated at all was luck at work. If not for that, his head would already be rolling, neatly separated from his body. It just so happened that most of the wounds Johann had inflicted upon Nicolas in the course of the two's confrontations until now were on the other Twilight's left side. Johann was aware that Nicolas was left-handed and knew firsthand how taxing it was to fight when one's body balance was crippled like that.

Were all those coincidences due to Dario's power, too? Although the man sure reeked bad for being the living incarnation of Lady Luck. But at least, the short man's nose picked up that Johann would be able to beat this monster tonight. That had to be why he gave Johann permission to attack Nicolas in the first place.

Johann's nose that had taken a headbutt from Nicolas and the cheek that had been dealt a blow with the hilt of the older man's katana throbbed painfully. The youth was used to ignoring pain, but he felt a little sick, perhaps due to the blows to the head giving him a brain concussion. Would he able to counter the monster's attacks like he was doing until now like this? Contrary to Johann's fears though, Nicolas still didn't move from the spot he had taken after putting a bit of distance between them. He was simply smirking, and nothing else. The youth's intuition told him that the man was letting him catch his breath. That leniency and self-confidence the man displayed could probably be regarded as a stroke of luck for Johann, too.

Johann accepted what he was offered and took a breath. Opening his eyes, he found that the night was unexpectedly radiant. Through a tear in the clouds moonlight shot, like an arrow released from a bow. Not even Johann knew what moonlight smelled like.

Nicolas beckoned him with his index finger.

---Ready yet? If you are, bring it.

That was what was said to him, the youth knew.

And indeed, his head was clearer, the shock from the impacts on his brain having mostly eased. The scent of gunpowder in the air somewhat abated, too, allowing for easier transmission of information on smells.

At the end, for a very short while, Johann's eyes darted towards the tattered couch. What they focused on was not Dario, however, but the man next to him, sipping whiskey with a superficial smile on his lips.

Worick. From his neck, there hanged that familiar wing-shaped necklace.

Johann didn't doubt that Sophia would never part with that necklace, much less give it to anyone, no matter who, willingly. Actually, her scent coming from that necklace was weak.

For a split second, Johann's murderous impulse flared up, with the blond man as its target.

But he couldn't get his priorities backwards, here. The monster before him came first. The stench of bloodlust coming from in front of him was terribly overpowering.

And a dog was supposed to head to its destination guided by its nose, after all.

*

Worick knew the implications when Johann's eyes met his. And of course, he felt the youth's murderous intent that was directed at him.

He even gave a whistle at that. Being glared at by a Twilight was helluva scary, he confirmed for himself yet again.

"You known him long?"

When asked, Dario let his Garam that had burned up to the filter drop to the ground by his feet, then cocked his head to the side.

"No, not really. A year or two. Ask him for details." "Oh, that's a surprise. I was under the impression that you've been hanging out together for 10-something years or so." "You see, with him, it's like he was born just yesterday, 'cause he never saw remotely human treatment when he was growing up. When he finds someone to hold a decent conversation with, he gets attached to them." "What about you?" "Hn?" "You seem to dote on Johann-chan quite a bit. Why?"

Worick fully expected Dario to just say he had forgot why in reply. Whether it was true or a lie, the short man would just half-heartedly evade the question, he thought.

But Dario didn't.

"Do you really need a reason to be friends?" "It's not about if you need a reason or not. There has to be something." "Maybe." Dario put Old Parr to his lips. "Here, there, everywhere stupid shitty fools are doing stupid rotten things. And I got fed up with it all. Know the feeling?" "Can't say I do." "Better if you don't. Anyways, when you’re hungry, you wanna fill your belly, right? And then the opposite, when you've eaten your fill, you wanna admire guys who are hungry."

Worick didn't understand what Dario wanted to say by that. He could probably easily chime in, saying he shared Dario's sentiment, but he had a feeling that this wasn't something he should treat frivolously and agree without meaning every word. Dario was talking about the reason why he had decided to throw away his own life willingly, Worick was sure.

"Why have you gotten sated?" "I can't remember why very well. My head is great, you see, it forgets all the trifle stupid things." "Yeah. It's one of your few in number special talents." "I know, right? You've no idea how convenient it is." "But also can be inconvenient." "I ask my kid brother at times like that." "You two sure mesh well." "That's how partnership works."

Worick gulped down what was left in his shot glass, and Dario poured him more. The Old Parr bottle was already about half empty.

Taking a sip out of his own glass, Dario smiled. "This booze sure is yummy. And it's such a nice night tonight. Perfectly suited both for drinking with a friend and for parting with a friend," he said.

It was directly after that that blood spilled and sprayed before the two's eyes.

*

When Johann took off his eyes of the necklace and refocused them on Nicolas, the man showed an expression like that of disappointment, almost like the happy smile he wore before was but a lie.

Instinctively, Johann knew the reason. It was because his murderous impulse was diverted away from the monster in front of him, if only for a second. The man was probably reproving Johann's halfheartedness.

---I'm sorry for that, Nicolas, Johann apologized in his heart.

Sorry for spoiling your fun. Sorry for not being a true unmixed beast like you.

---But I have my own joy and happiness.

Sophia. Just the fact of her existence was enough to make Johann feel content.

Johann kept squeezing the trigger of his handgun until the magazine was empty. One round grazed Nicolas' shoulder lightly, but the rest he dodged or repelled with his blade. The same instance Johann was finished firing the last bullet, he threw two knives, then dashed forward himself, following them.

Out of his weapons, he only had one combat knife and one wire left on him.

Closing his eyes, he simply ran.

---Need to purify my desire to kill, he tried to persuade himself.

Like the knife he launched, like the bullet he fired. Like the monster in front. His next slash would inflict a fatal wound, he believed.

He would kill the man. He would kill him, without fail. He would kill him with his next slashing attack. He would forget about Sophia for just those few moments. He would surrender himself to the undiluted madness for just a split second, like the monster in front. And a single finely honed slash would become the killing drive incarnate.

---If he could just make himself believe it...

Nicolas dodged the two knives thrown at him and, facing the opponent head on, readied his katana.

---If Johann could just make himself believe it, he would be able to make even this monster fall silent forever.

There was a wire attached to one of the thrown knives. When it unwound to its full length, Johann hauled it back in. A sound of the air being rend asunder came from behind Nicolas.

---I'm the pure killing intent personified.

Only, that killing intent was fake. If that monster had a working sense of hearing, he might have noticed that much. But he was staring only at Johann. He didn't even smirk anymore. Johann knew it even with his eyes closed. The next thing he did was to try and stab the approaching monster with his combat knife imbued with the fake murderous impulse. The monster swung his katana.

Directly following the two blades clashing, the thin knife pierced into the man's back from behind, just like Johann had envisioned it.

Nicolas' katana lost some of the power behind it, and Johann outmaneuvered it with his combat knife.  The tip of the knife was about to tear the man's throat open, the youth knew.

Only, immediately after he had confirmed it, his knife plunged into something that was more meaty than a throat had any right to be. Nicolas, with one knife already sticking out of his back, whipped up his right arm to let the combat knife sink into it.

---Ah.

This was what a true monster was like, huh. Being stabbed from behind didn't stop him, and neither did being stabbed from the front. The true madness not abating any no matter how much he bled.

Johann tried to pull his combat knife out of the flesh it pierced all the way to the bone. It didn't budge, however. The tough stiff muscle held it captive, the youth realized. Could not be helped then. Johann let go of his last remaining weapon.

Balling his right old man's hand into a fist, he punched the knife, spreading the bloody smell, on the handle. The force of the impact recoiled back into his fist. He did train to fight hand-to-hand, but the shock made his wrist bend and throb in pain. Next, he tried to do the same with his left childish arm. But the man caught it with his bleeding right hand and crushed the youth's hand in his grip.

From the intense pain, Johann's eyes opened. In his field of vision, blurry with tears, he saw the monster smiling.

"Wit' DIs, I dESTroYEd eveRYt'INg."

This was the first time the youth had heard the monster's voice.

He didn't understand what the man said.

What he did realize was that the katana was lodged in his own neck, and from there a spray of blood was gushing forth. But he couldn't feel the smell of it anymore.

*

From Johann's broken, fallen body, dark blood was streaming, spreading on the ground.

With that much, even Worick could smell it, now. It was not a pleasant scent.

Nicolas, who gave his everything to the game, was leaning against a wall, catching his breath. From his right arm stabbed with a blade at the end, blood was dripping. He overdid it, Worick wanted to chide him, he clearly could have won with less sacrifices on his part. But his partner had this bad habit of accommodating his opponents a little too much.

Sipping his whiskey, Dario gazed at what had been Johann only a few seconds ago. No matter how Worick searched his face, he didn't find signs of sadness in it. If anything, there was even a cheerful smile on his lips.

Taking note of the other man's empty glass, Worick asked, "Need a refill?"

Dario shook his head. "Nah, don't wanna have to take a leak." "The night has only just begun." "I've already had my fill of fun for tonight." "I see."

Worick wanted to talk to this man for just a little longer but was hard pressed to find a suitable conversation topic.

Taking out his Colt Government, he pushed it against Dario's temple.

"Do you remember what our bets were?" "No. I already forgot," Dario said, corners of his lips lifting in a smile. "I'll ask Johann on the other side. He's very capable, you see." "Take care of him. He's too good a little brother for someone like you." "Yeah. You said it."

Dario glanced at the Garam box but it was already empty. Only the faint sweet smell still hung in the air, and even that was already dissipating. Worick offered him his Pall Mall, but the short man declined with the palm of his hand.

"See ya, my friend. This is a good night to bid farewell." "Bye-bye, my friend. Say hi for me to your little brother and that stylish vivid violet car."

Worick pulled the trigger.

A bang, stupidly loud, echoed.

It resembled this man's voice, just a little.

Worick returned the Colt Government into its holster, then put a hand over the half-open eyes, as if in a smile, of the man laying collapsed on the couch and closed the lids. Good night was the words that you were supposed to say to a lady. "Well done," Worick whispered instead, but there was no answer.

He downed what Old Parr was left in his shot glass in one gulp. Lighting up a Pall Mall, he puffed out a cloud of smoke and closed his eyes.

Dario remained an elusive man till the very end. At the very least, he was no friend. Still, Worick wished they could have had a drink together one more time. And that he could have sat in the passenger seat of that violet monstrosity just once more. Or that Dario would call him friend once again. He really needed to put an end to this train of thought.

When Worick opened his eyes, he saw Nicolas walking up closer.

'Over?' his hands signed, and Worick nodded. "Yeah, both, more or less."

The requests of a dead woman and of a mafia organization, and with this, both of them were done and over with.

Worick got up from the couch and crossed to Johann. Standing over him, the blond gazed down at his face. The youth's expression wasn't nearly as bitter as Worick had expected. He looked like a sleeping child watching a dream.

Taking off the necklace too tight for his neck, Worick squatted by Johann and put it into the young man's hand, closing his fingers around it. Did he really risk his life for something as petty as a wing on a chain? The moon was finally out, showing through tears in the clouds, but the cheap thing didn't even glitter properly in the moonlight.

'Isn't that supposed to be the pay?' Nicolas pointed out disinterestedly with a sweep of his hand. "But of course," Worick nodded. "Except with this cute girly item lying around our house, I'll get fewer job requests for my main occupation. It's a cheap article, it's not worth the trouble." 'So what, we worked for free then, huh?' "You reap what you sow, remember? That's why some nights are like this, partner."

Nicolas grimaced with distaste at Worick's nonchalant words, but didn't really look especially discontent. To him, some necklace was something he couldn't care less about from the start, probably.

In the small city of Ergastulum, surrounded with walls on all sides, all you needed to do to run into trouble was take a few steps. Whether the fact was fortunate or unfortunate, no one cared. This time they just happened to draw the short straw, was all.

Worick didn't possess a nose capable of telling the smell of good fortune, after all. "Tough luck," he shrugged his shoulders and plastered the usual well-worn business smile on his face.

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